


Shimada Hanzo, Lord of the Shimada Clan

by WhiskeysWorks



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Human!zenyatta, Kidnapping, Light Angst, M/M, PIV, Romantic Fluff, Scion Hanzo Shimada, Slow Burn, this is an AU I forgot to mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:48:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22604215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskeysWorks/pseuds/WhiskeysWorks
Summary: Lord Shimada. Zenyatta had never heard that name before, doubted the stature of their apparent host. A host he was being ‘gifted’ to. Ten minutes later, the door opened again, a few more guards filing in and posting along the walls. The last person to enter was a young man in an expensive suit, blue shimmering along with his long black hair, features sharp and eyes sharper. He assessed the room minutely, gloved hands motioning once as the door shut again.“My lord,” Jiro greeted, standing and bowing low. Zenyatta blinked.“Jiro-san. You have a proposition for me,” Shimada answered, voice deep and commanding, Zenyatta feeling the way it controlled the room. Those umber eyes flicked to him for just a moment, the monk staring back at him curiously.
Relationships: Hanzo Shimada/Tekhartha Zenyatta
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. Lord Shimada

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so I have very specific tastes and Hanzo being the leader of the clan with Zenyatta at his side is one of them so here we are. I'll post in chapters but the work as a whole is completed, so if you're interested and want to read the whole thing it'll be up within the week!

Zenyatta had known the risks of traveling alone. He had prepared for them, taken each in stride when they presented themselves. Always calm and impassive, as he had studied and trained to be in the temples. However, that training broke when he was taken in the night. A band of people in masks and cloaks taking him in the dark; he’d had no time to gather his wits, much less fight back, before there was something covering his head and a sharp, sickly sweet smell that rendered him unconscious. 

Zenyatta had woken up to hands on him, a gag in his mouth, people cleaning him, dressing him, holding him down when he tried to struggle. He had no idea where he was, what these people wanted with him, or why he was taken. It was painful, everything they did to him to "make him pretty", as they called it. Dressed up to be used as a prize, an offering. Zenyatta had glared at the man that walked in to look him over when he was dressed and painted and cleaned, cold eyes lingering at the exposed expanse of his throat and chest.

“You shall make a fine gift to the Shimada lord. I want him in gold jewelry, spare no expense. We need this deal,” he announced. Zenyatta was fitted with gold bracelets, necklaces, rings, and earrings, little jewels twinkling each time he moved. 

He snarled at each person dressing him, until the diamond studded collar was clasped around his neck and pulled each time he made a sound. Reduced to just glaring, Zenyatta did as much of that as possible. He was thrown into the back of a car after a few hours of isolation in an empty room, mind racing the entire time, trying to assess his options. There was no way out, not with all the eyes on him, following his every move. That, and the man from before had a tight grip around the golden chain of the collar, tugging cruelly any time Zenyatta even took a step out of stride.

“You will behave and stay quiet, or I will have you strangled, do you understand me, little one?” the man asked, Zenyatta biting back a scathing reply as the gag was taken off. He knew his neck was already bruised enough as it was. With simply a nod, the man smiled and pat his head.

“Good, sweet thing.”

Zenyatta shivered, lip twitching, face twisting in disgust. He sat up straight and poised, not allowing the man to take away his pride, his practice. Zenyatta meditated while they drove, only opening his eyes when the collar was yanked again.

“Get out and follow me.”

He did as he was told silently, eyes narrowed and furious as he set his shoulders, glaring at the man.

“Such a brave little brat, aren’t you? You will not be my problem for much longer,” the man huffed, Zenyatta keeping his gaze fixed ahead of him as his face was caressed. Disgust and rage were smothered with impassiveness. He was dragged along behind the man as they passed through massive wooden gates, dragons carved into the doors. Zenyatta looked around critically, marking various possible escape routes. There were just so many guards, each one with either a gun or katana strapped to their sides, some with both. They all watched him as he passed, and he met each of their eyes coldly.

“Right this way, Jiro-san,” one of the guards motioned, leading them inside to an even larger castle. Zenyatta would have been impressed under different circumstances. As it was, he was simply annoyed with its pompous grandeur. They went into a large room with a long table in the center, Zenyatta grunting when he was forced to sit on his knees.

“Lord Shimada will be with you shortly.”

Jiro nodded and sat down next to Zenyatta as the guard went to stand by the door. And they waited, the monk eyeing Jiro as he tapped his fingers on the polished wood, demeanor shifting the longer they sat in silence. He was nervous. Zenyatta huffed quietly, silently hoping the man would get more than just nerves over this meeting. Lord Shimada. Zenyatta had never heard that name before, doubted the stature of their apparent host. A host he was being ‘gifted’ to. 

Ten minutes later, the door opened again, a few more guards filing in and posting along the walls. The last person to enter was a young man in an expensive suit, blue shimmering along with his long black hair, features sharp and eyes sharper. He assessed the room minutely, gloved hands flicking once as the door shut again. Zenyatta stared at him, frowning. He could not have been much older than himself.

“My lord,” Jiro greeted, standing and bowing low. Zenyatta blinked.

“Jiro-san. You have a proposition for me,” Shimada answered, voice deep and commanding, Zenyatta feeling the way it controlled the room. Shimada sat down, fingers lacing on the table as Jiro nodded and knelt as well. Those umber eyes flicked to Zenyatta for just a moment, the monk staring back at him curiously. He was handsome and regal, little things about his outfit and figure accentuating his prowess and wealth.

“I do. I have brought gifts to show my thanks for meeting with me, my lord. It is an honour and a blessing,” Jiro said with another bow of his head, motioning to Zenyatta and the small pile of boxes that had been brought along with him. Shimada did not even spare him another glance, simply raised two fingers and motioned again.

“Get on with it.”

Zenyatta smiled to himself. Shimada clearly knew exactly what was going on, and he did not seem amused nor swayed by it. Jiro swallowed, nodding to himself.

“I am here to humbly request permission to have my goods shipped through your territory, my lord.”

Zenyatta did not understand most of what they talked about as the meeting continued, banter being traded back and forth for thirty-minutes before Shimada seemed to tire of it. His tone turned sharper, clipped and cold as steel.

“I will allow you clearance for thirty percent of the earnings you make and a ten percent cut of your supplies. Take it or leave it," Shimada finally asserted, flicking a strand of his hair behind his shoulder. Zenyatta’s eyes followed the motion, oddly transfixed. Jiro’s fist was clenched on his thigh, though his face did not show his unease. He smiled and bowed again, Shimada’s expression unchanging.

“I will gladly take it. Thank you, Lord Shimada.”

“Very well. My guards will escort you out, and I will have the contracts sent by this evening. I expect them back just as promptly.”

Jiro stood and bowed once more, leaving the room with half of the guards. Shimada gave orders to the other few, only one making it to Zenyatta’s ears, however. He froze, heart suddenly beating faster at the implication.

“I will take him to my quarters.”

Zenyatta licked his lips, mouth dry, hands starting to shake. He was a gift, and he knew why they had dressed him up so nicely. Shimada stood and motioned for Zenyatta to follow him, eyes drawing up and down his body critically before he looked away again. Zenyatta trailed behind him, feeling panic rise in his chest as the guards disappeared to leave just the two of them. They finally made it to Shimada’s room, and he opened the door, silently waiting for Zenyatta to enter. He did, standing just inside the doorway as Shimada slid it shut quietly. 

The monk tried to say something, anything, but the words stuck in his throat, fear closing him up in a way he had never felt before. Shimada moved past him, taking off his watch, vest, tie, and shoes in orderly, practiced manner. Zenyatta watched him, hands clasped together to better hide how they shook.

“What is your name?” he suddenly asked.

“Zenyatta.” Voice quiet and shivery, unfamiliar. Shimada nodded, pulling a knife from his pocket and walking closer. Zenyatta stiffened, breath quavering.

“You may call me Hanzo,” Hanzo murmured, Zenyatta closing his eyes as the knife was pressed to his throat. The metal was cold, making him flinch. Then, the weight of the collar was suddenly gone as Hanzo cut it off in a smooth movement, Zenyatta blinking rapidly as he tossed it aside carelessly.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He questioned next, Zenyatta only managing a short shake of his head. Another nod, Hanzo putting the knife back in his pocket, walking into the bathroom. Zenyatta tried to get control of his breathing again, Hanzo eventually walking back to him with a bowl of water and a white rag.

“Sit,” Hanzo ordered softly, a far cry from the way he talked to the room beforehand, Zenyatta doing so rather quickly. His legs were weak. He watched Hanzo as he dipped the rag in the water, then wring it out.

“Close your eyes.”

Zenyatta did, feeling the rag wipe over them gently. The water was warm. Hanzo cleaned his face in silence, Zenyatta’s mind racing with questions he could not find it in himself to ask. He was terrified, body shaking and mind racing, yet, he could not speak nor move.

“Where do you come from?” Hanzo murmured, Zenyatta opening his eyes again as his lips were gently dabbed, cleaning the red that had been painted over them. Zenyatta had not expected him to be gentle in the slightest.

“N-Nepal.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Nepal. Did they take you from there?”

“Yes. I...Was traveling alone...”

“I see.”

End of conversation, though, Zenyatta was thankful for it. Tears had started to prickle at his eyes, throat constricting, chest tight. He just wanted to go home, where it was safe, and he was free. But to allow the tears to fall was to submit, and Zenyatta would be damned before he gave up so easily. He squared his shoulders again, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Hanzo slowed for a moment, then set the rag aside completely. He looked exhausted, shoulders slumping slightly, eyes clouded with emotion Zenyatta could not read. Not the same man from the meeting room.

“I am not going to hurt you. I won’t do anything to you, you have my word. If you want to leave, I will arrange it, and until then, you have a safe place to stay here. I do not know what made Jiro think to bring you here as a gift, but I assure you, I am not the man he is. There are clean clothes in the closet if you wish to change, and I will be in the next room if you need anything,” Hanzo told him as he stood, bowing slightly. Zenyatta stared at him as he made to leave, confusion overtaking his fear.

“But, this is your room. I do not want to take it from you,” he blurted, standing and following Hanzo, stopping abruptly when said man turned.

“Would you truly rather me stay?” Hanzo asked skeptically. Zenyatta swallowed, licking his lips. Something in his gut told him he could trust Hanzo, that the big, powerful lord of the Shimada clan persona was more façade than truth. And spending the night alone in a strange room, in a strange place, was not appealing in the slightest.

“I will not take your room from you when you have already shown me more kindness than I could have hoped for. Besides, you look like you could use the sleep in a place you are comfortable in,” Zenyatta shrugged, some of his personality coming back into his tone now that he had made up his mind about Hanzo. The monk watched Hanzo’s eyes flick over his face for a long moment, expression morphing at last into vague amusement.

“Are you...Patronizing me?”

“On the contrary, I am simply making a suggestion.”

Hanzo gave him a tired half-smile, shaking his head before walking towards the closet.

“A better one than any of my official advisors could give me...” he murmured to himself, Zenyatta raising a brow at him.

“I like your wit, Zenyatta. It is not often someone can amuse me so soon after making my acquaintance.”

“I am glad I made a good impression.”

Hanzo tossed a t-shirt and sweatpants towards him, Zenyatta finding the motion of it childish, somehow. He wondered again how old Hanzo was.

“Here, you can wear these. Those robes must be stiff.”

Zenyatta looked at the shirt—a size or two larger than what would most likely fit him—smiling a bit at the cute little cartoon onion creature on the front. Pachimari, it read in pastel pink. Zenyatta glanced up at Hanzo, who walked into the bathroom silently and shut the door. He was not at all what Zenyatta had expected, and he had a feeling that Hanzo would continue to surprise him. 

The monk changed quickly, tossing his robes to the side with a venomous glare, sticking his tongue out at them before crossing his arms and flopping down on the bed. The shirt was indeed far too big for him, and the pants were as well, but they were comfortable. They smelled good too, like fresh laundry, a bit of cologne, and spice in a way. Hanzo’s blankets smelled the same, though, the scent was stronger. Pleasant. Zenyatta closed his eyes, not realizing how tired he was. He was asleep soon after that.


	2. A Deal Struck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it was not apparent already, I like fluff and Hanzo being a lot nicer and more awkward than people expect him to be even though he's canonically a overly-confident ass (whom I love greatly).

Zenyatta woke up alone this time, sunlight shining through the open window, birdsong and the lull of city life filtering into the room. He yawned, snuggling back into his pillow, warm and sleepy. Something was off, though. The monk opened his eyes blearily, rubbing them as he sat up. A jolt ran down to his stomach when he realized he was not where he was supposed to be, memories of the previous day flooding back to him. 

He looked around for Hanzo, getting out of the bed and going to the window. There were guards stationed in the garden below, just before a drop off into trees, Mount Fuji in the distance just past the city. A nice view, though, there was no escape from such a height. Zenyatta retreated back into the room, opening the door instead and peeking out. The hallway was well lit, but empty and quiet.

“Okay, okay okay...” Zenyatta murmured to himself, wringing his hands as he looked around. Perhaps he could find a weapon to defend himself with and make a run for it, or sneak around to learn the area and find a good escape route. 

Then, Zenyatta frowned. Hanzo had offered to take him back home. He did not even need to try and escape. The monk huffed, plan discarded, though, he was unsure what to do with himself now. Snooping around seemed to be the most entertaining idea at the moment, so Zenyatta began to snoop. 

He went through some of Hanzo’s bedside drawers, though, there was not much past some paperwork and a notepad, pills, and a gun. Zenyatta took the last item out, inspected it, then carefully put it back. He then went over to the closet, pulling out various clothes and assessing whether he liked them or not before tossing them back inside. There were some very nice pressed suits, training uniforms, yukatas and kimonos, and a small area with some casual clothes. Not much colour or choices, though, some of the traditional clothes were quite beautiful. 

Zenyatta picked a new shirt advertising some sort of old band with gaudy letters and skeletons playing instruments, pulling it on and leaving the other one discarded on the floor. He finally shuffled over to the desk, inspecting the drawers full of paper and notes, none of which Zenyatta cared to read. There was a small piece of paper on the desk with his name on it, though, the monk picking it up curiously. A note.

‘Zenyatta,

I will not be available much today, but if you need anything, I have scheduled a servant to check on you once every hour. Also, if you could do me a favour and leave the room the way it is, that would be much appreciated. I have everything set up the way I like it. Thanks,

Hanzo’.

Zenyatta pursed his lips, eyes widening, setting the note down and putting his hands behind his back as he went to the bed, avoiding looking at whatever he had just gone through. He glanced at the clock: twenty minutes until one. Zenyatta frowned, blinking and rubbing his eyes to make sure he was seeing the numbers correctly. He did not realize he had slept so late. 

Hanzo’s note had said someone would come every hour, which meant he had a lot of time to waste. Zenyatta sighed, resisting the urge to start rifling through the bathroom to cure some boredom. For being a monk, Zenyatta knew he was not very good at the whole self-suppression thing, nor being able to sit in peace unless he was meditating. Ah, so meditation was the best option. Zenyatta folded himself into the lotus position, closing his eyes and letting his body relax, everything fading as he quickly slipped into the meditative state.

-

“Excuse me?”

Zenyatta took a deep breath, eyes snapping open as a young servant backed up a step, hand going back to her chest where it had been outstretched before. She blinked at Zenyatta while he blinked at her, then brushed off her robes and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. With a little bow, she brought over a tray of food, setting it next to the futon.

“Master Hanzo told me to bring you some food,” she explained, eyes flicking down to his shirt before quickly looking back up.

“Oh. Thank you.”

Zenyatta crawled to the edge of the bed, looking at the plates that had been brought to him. They smelled wonderful, and there was a lovely pot of jasmine tea as well.

“Would you like to share it with me?” he asked, the servant looking around before raising a brow.

“Me?”

“Unless there is someone else here with us that I cannot see, then yes.”

“I...Am not supposed to. I was just told I must deliver your food and come right back if you did not need anything else.”

“Well, then I suppose I need company. I am bored, and having someone to talk to is nice, since Hanzo will not be back anytime soon,” Zenyatta shrugged, picking up his chopsticks and scooping some rice into his mouth.

“Besides, you are nice, I like you!” he chimed through the mouthful. The young woman stared at him a moment, then sat down across from him hesitantly.

“O-okay...”

“What is your name?”

“Momo.”

“Like peach!” Zenyatta gasped, not even realizing his mistake in language until Momo smiled a bit.

“Yes, like peach,” she giggled, pouring him a cup of tea with a practiced hand.

“I would not have expected Master Hanzo to take you in like this. He is quite shy, you see, and it seems odd of him to...Accept someone so...Um. Young. As a...Well, a gift,” Momo continued, stuttering a bit and gaining a blush as she glanced up at Zenyatta.

“But he is hardly older than I am!”

“What...? How old are you?”

“I am twenty!”

“You are?!”

“Yes, I am! How old did you think I was?”

Momo bit her lip, looking down at her hands.

“A child...? No more than fourteen...”

“Fourteen?! I am not that small!” Zenyatta huffed, Momo tilting her head a bit.

“Well...”

“I am not!”

“You kind of are.”

Zenyatta grumbled, taking a few more bites before looking up at Momo again.

“You know Hanzo well?”

She blushed again, shrugging and shaking her head a bit with a nervous smile.

“W-well, I suppose as well as a personal servant can. He keeps to himself, and besides, I only come in to clean his room, mostly when he is working,” Momo rambled, glancing at a picture on Hanzo’s bedside table Zenyatta had looked earlier. It was of Hanzo himself and another person Zenyatta had not seen yet, though, both were smiling, and there was resemblance between the two. Brothers, perhaps, kin for sure. Zenyatta’s gaze flicked to Momo’s face, the way she bit her lip slightly and quickly looked back at him.

“He is kind to us, never yells or gets too demanding. I think he is just too tired most of the time, I try to suggest he spend some time for himself, but he does not often listen to the ramblings of, well, just a servant girl. I-I know it is silly, my job is just to make sure his quarters are clean and laundry is done, but I work for him gladly! Besides, he cleans his room so well on his own, there is hardly anything for me to do. Now, Genji was a different story, but...I...I am not supposed to talk about him...” Momo trailed off, Zenyatta frowning a bit.

“Who is Genji?”

“I am sorry, I slipped up! Just. Forget I said anything, and do not ask Master Hanzo about it! It is a touchy subject...”

“Oh...” Zenyatta hummed, making a mental note of it. He then smirked, raising a brow at Momo, changing the subject so she would not be so distressed.

“Well, I am no love expert, but it sounded to me that you have a bit of a crush on Hanzo.”

Momo went red at that, eyes widening as she shook her head.

“No! No no no, it is not like that at all! I-I am just a servant admiring the kindness of her master! He is good to us, that is all! I am sure he does not even know my name, I am just another face!”

“You keep looking at that picture of him,” Zenyatta teased, giggling as Momo’s eyes drifted to it again before they squeezed shut and she shook her head harder.

“No I do not! It is just a nice picture, he is smiling and looks handsome in it! His smile is nice, okay?”

“Oh, I am sure it is.”

“T-that’s not—! Now you are just making fun of me!” Momo whimpered as Zenyatta laughed, putting a hand over his mouth as she pouted.

“I am not! I think it is cute!”

Momo put her face in her hands, Zenyatta offering her some tea and waving his hands placidly. They talked for a little while more, mostly about where they were, the Shimada clan itself, and why Zenyatta was there at all. The tales started to shift towards entertaining stories as evening fell, Momo narrating one with gusto, Zenyatta giggling at the theatrics.

“I was supposed to be here alone, this wing of the castle empty save for myself, when I heard scratching. I went to check on it, but I found nothing. Then, there was movement to my left! I could not tell what, for it was just out of the corner of my eye, but it seemed to be a shadow. So I crept towards it, ready to strike! Now, I do not scare easily—"

“You two seem to be getting along well.”

Zenyatta and Momo both screamed, Hanzo blinking and raising his brows as he walked to his closet silently. He had already been halfway into the room, neither noticing him come in, even though the door had been shut. Momo stood quickly, bowing low as Zenyatta flopped back onto the futon with a wheeze.

“Hanzo, you cannot scare us like that!” he exclaimed, Hanzo glancing at the two of them in amusement as he changed out of his training gear.

“You seemed quite immersed in your story, I did not want to interrupt.”

Momo bowed again, face red as she turned quickly and ran for the door.

“I-I should go! Forgive me for staying so long—Oh! I can take those clothes for you, Master Hanzo, if you would like!” she flustered, Hanzo simply in an armoured skin-tight shirt and matching shorts as he folded his kyudo-gi. He handed them to her, and she took them with a bow, eyes trained on the floor.

“Thank you, Momo-san.”

Momo flushed even more, running from the room. So he did know her name. Zenyatta hid his smile, which dropped quickly as Hanzo spoke again.

“I see you went through my things.”

“I...Did not see your note until after...”

“I figured.”

“I am sorry.”

“It’s alright. You and Momo-san seemed to be having a good time.”

“Yes! She is very nice and has good stories!”

Hanzo smiled then, just a small one, though, Zenyatta’s eyes fixed on it. Momo was right: he did have a nice smile.

“I am glad you like her. I had hoped you would.”

“She respects you a lot."

Hanzo nodded, glancing at Zenyatta before moving into the bathroom. He was so quiet, moved like a panther through water. The monk sat down, arms circling around his knees to keep himself sitting up.

“How was your day, Hanzo?”

There was silence for a long while, Zenyatta almost wondering if Hanzo had not heard him when he popped back out, tying his hair up and leaning against the door frame.

“Busy.”

“Busy doing what?”

“Meetings,” Hanzo replied, then motioned to what was left of his clothes. “Training.”

“Meetings and training...” Zenyatta hummed, chewing on his lip and nodding slowly.

“Same as every day,” Hanzo shrugged. He slipped back into the bathroom, Zenyatta tipping his head.

“Do you not get bored?”

“Did you?” Hanzo called, Zenyatta making a face, confusion clear in his tone.

“Yes?”

“You did? Perhaps you need a job, then. Do you want to be my personal assistant?”

“What?”

Hanzo peeked out of the bathroom again, raising a brow.

“My personal assistant. So you won’t be bored while you decide what you want to do.”

Zenyatta raised his brows back, arms crossing over his chest.

“Are you sure it is not so you will not be bored also?”

“We can entertain each other.”

“Why offer me a job like that so suddenly? I hardly know you.”

“And yet in the twenty-four hours that I have known you, you have given me more honest advice and enjoyable conversation than anyone in the past two years has given me.”

Zenyatta crossed his arms over his chest, raising his brows skeptically.

“Really, a lord residing over hundreds of years worth of tradition with an empire at his beck and call does not already have such an assistant? And why pick someone like me anyways, I know nothing of your business or dealings.”

“Because you have qualities to you that I admire and wish to learn from. You seem to have yourself set on a good path, as a good person.”

“Yet you are not?”

“Not quite...That’s the interesting thing about power. It makes dishonest and cruel people out of us all,” Hanzo murmured, eyes dropping to the floor, that ever-present exhaustion seeming to clutch at him again. Zenyatta regarded him for a while. It took honesty to admit he could become a worse person—or that he already was—but the monk had yet to see anything but kindness from him so far. Strength was needed to be gentle as he was in the cold, hard world Hanzo was living in. Zenyatta had heard enough stories from Momo to tell it was not easy, nothing Hanzo did was.

“I think you are still a good person, Hanzo,” Zenyatta told him softly, Hanzo smiling bitterly.

“Then you do not know me well enough yet.”

The monk huffed, shaking his head.

“Allow me to learn from you as well, then. I accept your job offer.”

Hanzo tipped his head, his temple hitting the doorframe lightly as he leaned against it more.

“Very well. Your first order is to make your own futon over there. You took up most of the bed last night, and the blankets.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Hanzo gave him a little grin and shrugged, Zenyatta going to the closet to pull out another futon. He took some time to make sure it was comfortable enough, to find the right amount of blankets and pillows. Hanzo came out of the bathroom, hair wet, water droplets sliding down his back and chest as he went to the closet, a towel slung low on his waist. Zenyatta sniffed, keeping his eyes trained above Hanzo’s collar, not on the heat-flushed skin of his built torso, nor his cut form, the way the muscles rippled under his tan, smooth skin as he moved. Nope. Definitely did not notice any of that as he went to the closet to pick out some clothes.

“You can shower. I’ll get you some clean clothes to wear, and when I am free, we’ll go get some nicer ones fitted for you,” Hanzo told him, Zenyatta looking down at his overlarge outfit.

“This one is fine.”

“Not for my personal assistant, it’s not."

“But it is comfortable.”

“I’ll get you some comfortable ones that look nice too.”

“What is wrong with this one?”

Hanzo sighed, head tipping back in exasperation.

“You are just like him...Zenyatta, you cannot wear an old band shirt and sweatpants that don’t even fit to a meeting with the richest people in Asia, I’m sorry. It just doesn’t work like that.”

“It should,” Zenyatta huffed, walking over to the bathroom as Hanzo shrugged lightly, not offering a reply. He took a shower—much needed and greatly lengthened, for he had not felt such warm, clean water in a long while—finding some clean clothes sitting just inside the shoji door. Zenyatta put them on, holding the shirt to his face for a moment. They just smelled so good. 

He quickly dressed after that, slipping back into the room to find Hanzo absently brushing his hair as he looked over something on his desk. Zenyatta watched him for a moment, then padded up behind him, looking at the document he was reading. All kanji, not something Zenyatta was too good at reading, but he could decipher most of it. The monk’s eyes drifted to Hanzo, the slow pull of his brush, sometimes catching on a tangle before being yanked out. He gently took the brush, Hanzo turning to him sharply.

“Let me do this for you, you are too rough,” Zenyatta murmured, putting a finger to Hanzo’s chin and tilting it back in the direction of his papers. There was a small moment of resistance before Hanzo went back to his previous task, though, Zenyatta could tell his focus was on him now instead. 

With small, gentle movements, Zenyatta brushed the tangles from Hanzo’s hair, combing his fingers through it as well when he could run it through without a catch. Zenyatta set the brush down when he was done, leaning forward to see Hanzo’s face. A smile grew on the monk’s lips when he saw that his eyes were closed, resting his cheek on his palm, shoulders relaxed. Gentle hands were placed on those shoulders, Zenyatta squeezing Hanzo lightly as he blinked awake again.

“As your official personal assistant, I suggest going to bed now. This can wait,” he whispered, Hanzo shaking his head and stretching.  
“No, I’ve already put it off...”

“Then one more night will not hurt.”

Hanzo looked down at the papers, then sighed and stood.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.”

Zenyatta grinned, watching Hanzo go to his bed and immediately curl up under the blankets. He turned out the lights, crawling into his own futon and facing Hanzo, just barely illuminated by the moonlight. The monk tucked his arm underneath his pillow, smiling a bit as he eventually closed his eyes, satisfied that Hanzo had fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


	3. Officially Mr. Personal Adviser

Two days later saw Zenyatta riding in a fancy, sleek car sitting next to Hanzo in the back, their ride taking them to go shopping. Hanzo was on the phone most of the ride—making appointments, he had said—Zenyatta staring out the window in awe. The city was nice, lots of colour and flashy lights even during the day. So many people in so many outfits walking around, holding food, stopped outside of little vendor stations. Zenyatta saw one with a cartoon octopus on the sign, and he gasped, reaching beside him to pat Hanzo’s thigh excitedly.

“Hanzo! Look! Look they have a little octopus on that one!” he exclaimed, looking back at Hanzo and getting a side glance with an unamused raised brow. He put his finger to his lips, Zenyatta frowning and making a face as he went back to searching for more cute signs. 

The mall was a rather massive building, modern and extremely expensive-looking from the outside alone. Hanzo stepped out of the vehicle, Zenyatta doing the same and thanking the guard that had opened the door for him. He brushed off his shirt, looking around nervously as he realized he probably stuck out very badly. Everyone else was wearing something fancy like dresses and suits while he was simply in jeans and the t-shirt he had been wearing for three days now. 

Hanzo motioned to him, Zenyatta trotting over quickly and forgetting the stares he was getting as soon as they walked inside the building. It was enormous. Zenyatta gasped at the chandeliers hanging from the roof, glass and marble and fancy designs everywhere. He could hardly see where one shop ended and another began, there was so much being advertised. Zenyatta followed behind Hanzo closely, not wanting to get lost in a place like this, nor get distracted by anything. 

Hanzo, even surrounded by escort guards, seemed to know exactly where he was going and led the group, eyes moving from each store critically before flicking up to the ceiling and all the faces passing them. Most people stared, others whispered to one another, and a few moved out of his way with a bow. It seemed this place knew who Hanzo was. Zenyatta waved at a few that would not look away from him, though, they simply made a face and raised a brow as they gave him a once over. The monk huffed, tapping Hanzo’s shoulder.

“Yes?” Hanzo asked, barely turning his head in Zenyatta’s direction.

“The people here are rude,” Zen grumbled. Hanzo gave him a dry laugh.

“They’re just rich.”

“But you are not rude, and you are likely the richest person in here!”

Hanzo glanced at him, then continued their walk in silence. They went into a store that Zenyatta could not decipher the name of, Hanzo leading them straight into a back room. The guards waited outside, people working in the store bowing and talking to Hanzo respectfully. Zenyatta looked around at all the clothes, interested by some of the designs. It was not anything he was used to, but he liked a lot of them.

“Zenyatta.”

The monk turned, Hanzo making a sweeping motion with his hand.

“Pick out whatever you like and bring it to this lady here, she’ll let you try it on and fit it for you.”

“Okay!” Zenyatta chimed, going over to the first rack he saw and sifting through the clothes.

-

It took hours, Zenyatta sick of going to stores, trying more clothes, getting poked every now and then while they pinned things up to the right size and proportions. So much jewelry and shoes and matching and a whole lot of other things Zenyatta did not understand, but they were finally at the last stop. Zenyatta did not budge from his spot, hands curled together against his chest, staring into the front of the store. Hanzo nudged him, the monk blinking.

“Pick out what you need, but please make it fast. I have a meeting at eight,” he said with a little frown, Zenyatta glancing back at him before swallowing and cautiously stepping inside. There were pictures of practically nude models everywhere, mannequins of all kinds spinning around to show off what gaudy lingerie they were dressed in. Zenyatta chewed on his lip as he looked around, though, most of what he saw could hardly be considered undergarments with how little there was. He went over to something lacy, plucking it from its display carefully and inspecting it.

“Anything in particular you’re looking for, sweetheart? Got someone special you wanna impress?”

Zenyatta squeaked, throwing down the garment and spinning. There was a woman with short, dyed hair staring back at him, her posture relaxed against the wall beside him.

“Aw, you’re adorable, hon! I bet you’d look great in that,” she continued, motioning to what he had just been holding.

“I...Do not even know what it is...?”

“Oh, it’s just a little halter. Cups your boobs real nice, gives ‘em a little bounce, if you know what I mean.”

“I-I do not have boobs.”

“That’s fine, we got ‘em for men, women, and everyone in between, lace and leather. You looking to surprise someone?”

“I am actually just looking for some undergarments and pyjamas, preferably ones that cover everything,” Zenyatta stuttered, wringing his hands as he looked around nervously. The woman raised a brow, glancing towards the front of the store where Hanzo was waiting.

“Are you...With him?”

Zenyatta nodded, the woman’s eyes widening before she turned back to him.

“You are with Shimada Hanzo?!”

“Yes, I just said so.”

“I...I see. Well. If he’s the one you’re looking to impress, I can certainly get you something from the back if you want,” she told him, waggling her brows. Zenyatta shook his head quickly.

“Please, I am not trying to impress him, I just want some underwear. We have to leave soon.”

The woman stood and leaned back, eyes narrowing, tapping her chin thoughtfully as she looked him up and down.

“Something that covers everything, hm? We got some of that. Not much, but some. Come on, I’ll get you sized real quick, if you don’t mind me touching your ass a bit.”

“I have been getting sized all day, I am used to it. I just have to hurry. And get pyjamas.”

“We got those too.”

“Yay!”

Zenyatta went with the woman, got sized, then eagerly picked out some undergarments from the box she brought him. There was a good mix of styles, Zenyatta picking the ones that looked like they would cover the most. He then was able to pick out two sets of pyjamas—one for warm weather, the other for cold—the material soft and comfortable. The woman brought all of it to the front, though, she added a few things to the bag before scanning the items he had gathered. Zen gave her a confused look, and she winked at him.

“You’ll thank me for it later, hon. I won’t charge you for them.”

Zenyatta smiled a bit, the woman raising her shoulders slightly with a grin before checking him out and handing him the bag.

“Good luck. You’ll look good in those, I promise.”

“Thank you for your help!”

“Uh-huh! You have a good evening, hon.”

Zenyatta left the store, letting the bag hang from his fingers behind his back as he went up to Hanzo and smiled.

“All done! Can we go home now?”

Hanzo sighed quietly and nodded, eyes never leaving the screen of his phone. Zenyatta frowned a bit, though, he stayed silent until they were alone in the car again.

“Are you alright, Hanzo?” he asked softly, reaching out to brush his fingertips against his arm lightly.

“I’m fine. That place just gives me a headache,” Hanzo muttered, finally turning his phone off and leaning his head back against the seat. Zenyatta hummed.

“Overstimulated, perhaps? It is a lot to look at all at once.”

“Yeah. Did you get everything you needed? I would have gone with you but obviously...You’re perfectly capable of picking out private things for yourself.”

“It is just underwear. I normally do not even wear it!”

“Wow, okay, good to...Know? I guess?”

“What? It is normal! It is not that big of a deal, and either way, underwear is just pants for your genitals instead of your legs.”

“Thank you for that enlightening conversation, personal adviser. I definitely needed that today.”

Zenyatta laughed, Hanzo giving him a look before shaking his head and putting it in his hand. But he was smiling, his own laughter quiet but true. The monk smiled at him, then made light conversation as they drove back home.

-

The days started to pass quicker as Zenyatta was given more to do. Now that he had clothes, Hanzo started to take him with him to small meetings so he could learn what they were like. He spent more time with Zenyatta, telling him what they would be doing, how to react to certain things—or conversely, how to not react at all—what to listen and look for. The monk went to training with him as well, watching Hanzo practice to, apparently, get to know how to work with him, and eventually, how to fight with him. 

Zenyatta had stayed quiet at the assumption that he did not have any fighting practice himself, found vague amusement in the way Hanzo seemed to carry his shoulders with more pride as he went to train in the dojo. The more Zenyatta watched him practice, the more Hanzo struck him as a little puppy, excited to show off and perhaps get a reward for it if he did good. 

The monk was sitting on the floor, arms and legs slipped through the small railing around the ring, chin set on the top as he stared on in boredom. Being with Hanzo was better than being alone in his room, but just sitting and watching him had lost its fun pretty quickly. Hanzo picked up a bō staff, Zenyatta tilting his head back and forth, eyes drooping. The heat was making him sleepy. Something caught his eye, however, when Hanzo started to move. It became clearer the more he swung the bō staff, what had been bothering Zenyatta about his form the whole time. He simply could not place it before.

“Hanzo,” he called, waving a bit as said man paused, looking up at him, hair falling into his face a bit. Zenyatta quickly pushed aside the thought of it being cute, standing instead and leaning against the railing.

“You are too stiff when you fight. It will end up taking away power and reach from your strikes.”

Hanzo looked down at the bō staff, then whacked it against the training dummy. The small blow shook it, some straw falling from the back.

“Seems fine to me,” Hanzo shrugged, though, Zenyatta shook his head. He hopped down from the ledge, walking into the ring.

“You see how you hold your arm? Your elbow is swinging out too far. If you keep it closer to your body, you can defend yourself better and get more reach.”

Hanzo raised a brow, huffing a dry laugh as he crossed his arms haughtily.

“Well, if you’re so good at it, why don’t you show me how it’s supposed to be done?”

“If it will wipe that smirk off your face, then gladly. Give me that,” Zenyatta demanded, holding out his hand expectantly. Hanzo blinked, seemingly unprepared to have Zen snap back at him, handing over the bō staff as Zenyatta tossed his shirt to the side. He took the bō staff and spun it, taking a steadying breath before launching an attack on the training dummy. Hanzo took a step back as Zenyatta hit it in three different places in quick succession, spinning on one leg before snapping his arm out fully and making the dummy’s head rock.

“There, see? It is a matter of learning to work with your body, the flow and power you have with momentum and the right movements. You see how I move?”

Zenyatta asked, Hanzo staring at him for a long moment before nodding.

“Yes.”

“Good. You try it. Do you have another staff, because this one is mine.”

“Oh, is it now?”

“Yes. Now go get another one,” Zenyatta ordered, raising his brows as Hanzo stood there a moment, face shifting from bewilderment to a scowl. The monk smiled triumphantly as Hanzo walked back to where the weapons were kept, leaning his weight against the staff. Hanzo came back with another bō staff in hand, sporting a light pout.

“Aw, do not be such a baby. Here, I will teach you!”

“I am not being a baby!”

“Then stop pouting.”

“I am not—"

“Yes, you pout, get over it. Now, get into this stance here.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes and grumbled, though, he watched Zenyatta curiously, matching his stance. The monk led him through the movements, slow at first, until he realized rather quickly that Hanzo was more than capable of going through them faster. He was a quick learner, a good listener, and there was hardly a fumble, Hanzo getting the movements down the first time he was shown. They were soon moving in tandem, a mirror image of the other, staffs clicking against one another as they began to spar.

“Drop your elbow!” Zenyatta told him a he spun, dropping fluidly as Hanzo’s bō staff whipped over his head. Hanzo did as he was told, Zenyatta smiling as he blocked the much more powerful hit.

“Good! Do it again with a spin!”

Hanzo did so, Zenyatta having to take a few steps back to avoid the strike.

“See how much reach? Wonderful!”

Zenyatta thought he saw a flash of a real smile on Hanzo’s face, though, he dropped quickly and whipped his leg out, trying to sweep the monk’s legs. Zenyatta grunted as the backs of his knees were hit, but he was able to reach out and land a backflip, kicking Hanzo’s chin in the process. He landed in a crouch as Hanzo stumbled back, spitting blood.

“Hanzo, I am sorry—!” Zenyatta started, cutting short when another strike went over his head, sliding down just in time. Hanzo was grinning, spinning and hitting Zen’s staff in a series of blows that were barely blocked. The monk smiled a bit, then ducked and slid between his legs, spinning on one hand and whipping his legs up. One hit Hanzo in the shoulder, making him stumble, the other in his stomach, pushing him off his feet. 

Zenyatta landed on top of him, holding his staff to Hanzo’s throat as he straddled him, breathing heavily. Hanzo stared up at him, eyes wide. Then, he laughed, Zenyatta lowering his bō staff with a smile.

“I haven’t had that much fun sparring in forever!” He panted, blood still dribbling from his lips. Zenyatta giggled, leaning back and sitting on Hanzo’s shins so he could sit up. “Gods, you’re really, really good! Why didn’t you say anything?"

Zenyatta shrugged.

“I did not think it would be important. You are a wonderful student, too! You did amazing, I hardly had to correct anything!”

Hanzo smiled, a little blush dusting his cheeks as he looked down shyly, hair falling over his face again. Zenyatta huffed a little laugh, brushing it behind his ear, then tapped his lips lightly.

“You should probably get that looked at. I did not mean to hit your face, I am sorry,” the monk murmured, Hanzo shrugging.

“It happens. Besides, it was a good kick.”

Zenyatta smiled, keeping Hanzo’s gaze for a moment. He then looked to the side, clearing his throat.

“Well, I suppose I should let you up, hm?"

“Yeah...”

Zenyatta stood, then held out his hands, Hanzo taking them. He hauled himself up, then stepped back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand again.

“Thanks for sparring. It was fun,” Hanzo told him, Zenyatta clasping his hands behind his back and rocking on his heels.

“Of course! I had fun too. Perhaps we can make it an every day occurrence?”

“Perhaps we can.”


	4. Untouchable

Months passed, summertime fading into fall with every breeze, the leaves changing colour, the air cooling down. Zenyatta had been working hard to keep Hanzo’s work schedule balanced with his actual life. He was certain that the elders were not happy with his existence at this point, despising the fact that he kept Hanzo at bay from their full control. Hanzo would listen to him over the elders now, and Zenyatta knew that made them furious. However, as Hanzo liked to say, he did not give a shit. 

Only a few months had gone by, and Hanzo was blossoming like a flower kept in the dark seeing sunlight for the first time, growing and thriving. Zenyatta saw him smile and laugh more often, was privileged with being the one Hanzo came to talk to, the person he could be himself around. He was gaining Hanzo’s trust, slowly, but surely, and teaching him that there was more to life than just duty in the process. There were long business days, many of them, and Zenyatta had started to be let in on the big meetings and trips. It was one such trip that reminded Zenyatta of the business he had stepped into was a dark one. 

They were in Tokyo, staying in a beautiful hotel with their own private onsen, service waiting on them hand and foot. Zenyatta did not think he would ever get used to that. He was getting dressed for the meeting, more of a get together at the bar, though, Hanzo had said it was important. It would let him know who was still willing to stand their ground against him, and who was willing to work with him. The monk was getting ready for it, laying out his clothes delicately. Hanzo spared no expense on them, was always quick to listen whenever Zenyatta happened to voice that he wanted something. It was not often, but Hanzo would smile and nod, taking him somewhere the very next day. 

Zenyatta glanced to his suitcase, biting his lip as he went over to it. He had not thought about his trip to the lingerie store in a while, but for some reason, he had decided to pack one of the special items the lady working there had given him. There was an outfit he had in mind, though, he was not sure if it would work for this meeting. Zenyatta huffed and pulled it out, spreading it over the bed. Glanced to the bathroom, where Hanzo was still getting ready. 

It was a lacy muted gold halter, which would be covered by a practically sheer loose blouse, tucked into tight, high-waisted leather leggings with golden flats. Zenyatta put some jewelry with it, going back and forth between necklaces when he felt movement behind him. He turned quickly, Hanzo tilting his head, eyes drifting over the outfit. They flicked up to Zenyatta after a moment, something unreadable dancing behind them. The monk cleared his throat.

“I...Have a different outfit if this one is not suitable.”

There was a stretch of silence that lasted a beat to long, Hanzo shaking his head at the end of it.

“No, it’s fine. Here, let me help you,” he offered, Zenyatta smiling a bit as he nodded. The monk let his robe slip from his shoulders as Hanzo picked up the halter, tossing it aside on the bed. Trying to act unbothered, even when Hanzo’s eyes dipped down, seeing the matching underwear he was wearing. Neither said anything about it, however, Hanzo simply leading Zenyatta’s arms through the halter and pulling it over his head gently. He adjusted it, then turned and picked up the blouse. 

Zenyatta glanced at himself in the full-sized mirror, biting his lip to hide his smile. He did look good. And the tops of Hanzo’s ears were red. 

The monk gazed up at him as he pulled the blouse on next, brushing down the sleeves. Watched as Hanzo’s eyes flicked up for a second before immediately dropping back to his task. The leggings went on next, Hanzo tucking the blouse in carefully, fingertips gently brushing over his backside. He slipped on the shoes next, then stood and meticulously clipped on all the jewelry. Delicate golden rose plugs went in last, Hanzo stepping back just a bit. 

He looked over Zenyatta for a moment, then went to his own suitcase, sifting through it. The monk watched him pull out a gold scarf, smoothing it out over his palm. He came back over and tied it around Zenyatta’s waist, then nodded to himself. Zenyatta turned to look at the mirror again. He looked good. Really good. With a smile, Zenyatta spun and giggled, facing Hanzo again. He was staring, eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

“Perfect,” he murmured, so quietly Zenyatta could barely hear it. The expression quickly shifted to nonchalance as the monk tilted his head, Hanzo flicking a strand of hair behind his shoulder.

“Go finish getting ready.”

“Mm!”

Zenyatta trotted into the bathroom, glancing at Hanzo once more before shutting the door. His brow was furrowed, a rather adorable blush dusting over his cheeks. The monk hummed to himself as he finished getting ready, adding just a touch of maroon lipstick and golden eyeliner to his bottom lash line. When he came back out, Hanzo was tightening his tie, slipping his suit jacket on and adjusting the cuffs. Zenyatta turned him around without a word, smoothing out his shirt and buttoning the jacket for him, tugging on the cuffs to straighten them. He was wearing a deep, midnight blue suit with a black silk shirt, little bits of silver on his watch and tie. 

Zenyatta patted his chest and smiled at him, brushing Hanzo’s hair back where it was pulled into a clean bun. One strand of it would always fall loose, no matter how hard they tried to keep it in place. He still made it look good. Really good.

“You look very sharp, my lord,” Zenyatta teased, patting Hanzo’s chest as he took a step back.

“As do you, Mr. Personal Adviser.”

“Shall we?”

Zenyatta held out his arm, Hanzo huffing a laugh and taking it, leading them out the door. They went down to the bar, Hanzo’s demeanor shifting almost immediately, face settling into his business expression. There were people mulling around everywhere, talking, laughing, drinking. However, as soon as Hanzo stepped into the room, it got significantly quieter, most people bowing immediately. Zenyatta stayed by Hanzo’s side as he walked to the bar, hands clasped behind his back. He could feel the stares, the whispers starting up. That always happened. People always wanted to know who he was and why he was with Shimada Hanzo. And Hanzo had told him it would be used against him. Zenyatta would be used against him. So he had to be careful. 

The last thing Zen wanted was for Hanzo to get hurt somehow, so for the most part, he simply watched and listened. He was very, very good at catching subtle changes in behaviour or tone, could read people’s energies to sense their intentions. People often trusted him with more private conversations, underestimating him or quickly labeling him as a non-threat. He was easy to get along with, and knew how to get information from people without seeming like he was. It had helped on quite a few occasions. 

Hanzo had been impressed by it, taken him on every business meeting they had where he needed an extra set of eyes and ears. Which was just about every time.

“Shimada Hanzo. It is a pleasure to meet you at last.”

Zenyatta looked up at the man that had come over, bowing low as Hanzo regarded him coolly. This was one who wanted to work with them. Zenyatta scanned the room as Hanzo spoke with the man—Ouro, if he recalled correctly from a previous meeting like this one—checking the exits and keeping an eye out for anything that looked suspicious. Everything seemed normal.

“And who might this lovely enchantress be? I must say, you are certainly the most beautiful thing in this room,” Ouro gushed, Zenyatta raising an unimpressed brow at him. All for show. He had seen too much of it over the past few months, learned quickly that most people only said it to get on Hanzo’s good side. Not like it ever worked.

“Thank you. It is nice to hear that I am simply an object to you,” Zenyatta hummed flatly, Hanzo smirking next to him. He took a drink from the sake glass he had ordered, allowing the monk to have his fun.

“That is not at all what I meant! I was only admiring your great beauty.”

“Ah, so my only value is my beauty, then?”

“N-no, of course not! I was—"

“Ouro-san, I am joking. I know I am beautiful, your compliments are adequate.”

Ouro blinked, glancing back and forth between Hanzo and Zenyatta before clearing his throat and muttering something about the billiard tables. Hanzo watched him leave with a sharp eye, Zenyatta crossing his legs, sitting up straight.

“They think they are so clever. So shallow...” he murmured, Hanzo huffing a dry laugh quietly.

“Welcome to the business world.”

Zenyatta’s response was stolen as another person came up to Hanzo, introducing herself with a bow. The night went on much like that, people rushing over to Hanzo as soon as the last one had left, all vying for the attention of the oyabun of the Shimada clan. There were only a few that Hanzo held conversation with for a while, clans that had been allies of the Shimada for generations. Zenyatta was bored of listening to the same conversations over and over again, so he stood, going to the restrooms to get a break from the people and the gawking. He gave a signal to Hanzo, who nodded once and went back to focusing on his conversation. 

Zenyatta sighed when he shut the door, closing his eyes for a moment before going to the sink. His makeup still looked good, though, his eyes were starting to show his exhaustion. He could not imagine how Hanzo felt. Zenyatta did not know how he did it; all those eyes on him all the time, people always wanting something from him, seeing him as something more than just another human being. It was hard, he knew, Hanzo had told him once. The way the elders treated him like a tool, something to be used only when needed, and the other clans feared him, seeing him as an immovable force, the leader of an all-powerful empire, a dragon.

“But you strip away the name and everything that is associated with it—if you just strip away the name, really—and I am just Hanzo. Just another nobody, like everyone else. Another person in the crowd. No one would care who I was, and honestly? That sounds nice. I’d like that,” Hanzo had told him, voice soft, longing in a way. 

But it was his duty, and he accepted it. Zenyatta thought it was commendable, and he certainly thought Hanzo was the best man for the job. However, he was just a man. Zen knew people forgot that. With another sigh, Zenyatta left the bathroom, making his way back to Hanzo. He was stopped by a booth, a hand reaching out to hold onto his wrist.

“Hey. You’re with Shimada-sama, right? You mind taking a message to him for me?” the man asked, words slurring a bit. There were drinks on the table, one too many it seemed.

“Release me,” Zenyatta demanded calmly. The man grinned, taking his hand instead and pressing a kiss to the back of it. Zen’s nose wrinkled.

“Damn, where did he find someone like you? You’re gorgeous. Got any friends you wanna tell me about? Or, hey, you could always come with me. Doesn’t have to be long, and I’ll pay you well.”

“This is the last time I will say it. Release me, now. I will not go with you.”

“Aww, come on. We’re all just here to have a little fun and suck up to Shimada-sama for some cash or a deal of some sort. You and I could make a quick deal right here and now, yeah?” the man smirked, Zenyatta narrowing his eyes. He slammed the heel of his palm on the man’s wrist as he yanked his arm free, the man shouting.

“The hell was that for?! I wasn’t doing anything!”

“I asked you to let me go, and you did not. You are drunk and making a fool of yourself.”

“I didn’t do anything, you prissy little bastard! You must think you’re untouchable now that you’re with Shimada-sama, don’t you? Well, I got news for you: everyone can be taken down by something. And if you ask me, I think you’re Shimada-sama’s weak spot. There’s a lot I could ask for if I had you to bargain with...” he muttered darkly, Zenyatta taking a step back as he lunged forward suddenly, knocking the table as he went. 

Hanzo grabbed his forearm before he could reach for the monk, knuckles white as his fingers dug into a pressure point. The man collapsed with a grunt, Hanzo not letting go of him.

“Kaidama-san, how unfortunate to hear you will no longer be doing business with the Shimada clan. We will be taking over for you,” he growled, Zenyatta’s breath catching as a spray of blood suddenly splattered against the ground. 

Kaidama clutched at his throat, gurgling as Hanzo let him go and stood, straightening his jacket. The onlookers continued with their conversation, the noise of it hushed. Zenyatta stared at the man as he choked on his blood, bile rising in his throat. Hanzo looked back at him, walking over and placing a hand on his lower back. The monk did not hear what he said the first time, did not hear anything until Hanzo gently tilted his face up to look at him.

“Do you want to go back to the room?” he whispered, Zenyatta blinking rapidly and nodding.

“Alright.”

The monk followed after Hanzo blindly, eyes trained on the ground as they went back to the room. Hanzo led him to the bathroom, setting a hand on his shoulder. He did not say anything, simply left Zenyatta to himself, shutting the door quietly. Zen took a long shower, letting the noise and the water flow around him as he tried to meditate a bit. He could not. 

The man’s face kept popping into his head, the blood spurting from his throat and dripping from his lips. 

When he went back into the bedroom, Hanzo was not there. Zenyatta went to his bed, sitting on it and plucking at the sheets. It was a little while before Hanzo came back, glancing at Zenyatta before heading to the bathroom.

“I am sorry you had to see that, that he did that to you. I told you, I am not a good person,” he murmured. Zenyatta swallowed, listening to the sound of the shower starting up again. He laid down, but did not close his eyes. 

When Hanzo was through showering, he turned out the lights and went to his bed with a quiet sigh. A rustle of blankets. Silence. Zenyatta stared at the wall, eyes adjusting to the darkness. Took a stuttering breath. Hopped out of his bed and climbed into Hanzo’s, curling up under the blankets against his back. Hanzo flinched at the contact, his voice low and quiet when he spoke after a moment.

“...What are you doing?”

“Can I please...Stay with you?” Zenyatta whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his forehead against Hanzo’s nape. There was a pause, a long one.

“Just don’t steal all the blankets.”

Zenyatta nodded, cautiously reaching around Hanzo’s waist and taking his hand. His own was shaking. Hanzo squeezed it lightly.

“I’m sorry.”

Zenyatta tried his best to fall asleep, though, he did not expect to get much.


	5. There Are Good Days

Zenyatta was getting really sick of the Shimada compound. Walking in the gardens was nice, but he had been on every path so much he knew them by heart. He had wandered for hours—sometimes with Hanzo—found little spots of serenity, meditated, then had to go back to the enclosure of the castle for some meeting or another. Training with Hanzo provided entertainment, though, it was only for about an hour, twice each day. Then it was back to the castle, again. 

Zen was sick of it, so he did something about it. 

He was waiting outside Hanzo’s room, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Listening to the quiet noises inside—a door shutting, something being placed on the desk, then the shift of weight just inside, a tired sigh. Hanzo opened the door, Zenyatta grinning and taking his arm, tugging on it.

“Come! Come, come quickly!” he whispered, Hanzo’s eyes wide, his stance relaxing from where he had gone rigid and on the defense.

“Zen, you can’t do that—"  
“Come on!” Zenyatta urged with a little laugh, dragging Hanzo down the hall and to an exit that led into the back gardens.

“Where are we going?”

“Shh! Just follow me!”

Hanzo’s brows furrowed, but there was a light smile on his lips, if a bit bewildered. He crouched down and followed Zenyatta through the gardens, both ducking or hiding behind cover when they heard a guard. They made it to the gate, Zenyatta about to make a turn when Hanzo took his hand and shook his head. He pointed up, Zenyatta frowning. There was a mischievous light in Hanzo’s eyes that the monk had never seen before, something about it incredibly endearing.

“Get on my back,” Hanzo whispered, Zenyatta blinking.

“What?”

“Get on my back! Trust me.”

There was only a slight moment of hesitation before Zenyatta smiled and hopped on, clinging to him easily. Hanzo adjusted him, then peeked out of the bush they were hiding behind, looking around. He then launched out of it, running for the wall. Zenyatta squeezed his eyes shut, feeling him jump, shift, then, vertigo. He squeaked as they landed a bit heavily, Hanzo helping him back to his feet. They were just outside the gate.

“Did you climb that?!” Zenyatta gasped, Hanzo nodding.

“How?! It is huge!”

“I did it a lot with Genji,” Hanzo shrugged, Zenyatta tilting his head. 

He had not heard that name in a long time, remembered what Momo had said about it. Not to bring it up, touchy subject.

“Who is Genji?” Zenyatta asked. 

Hanzo started to walk, the monk having to speed up a bit to get in stride with him.

“He’s my brother,” Hanzo responded, tone clipped just at the end. He did not look at Zenyatta, simply stared straight ahead. The monk recalled the man in the picture on Hanzo’s bedside table. So it was a brother.

“I did not know you had a brother! That is lovely! I should like to meet him someday,” he chimed, Hanzo putting his hands in his hoodie pocket.

“I would have liked him to meet you too.”

Zenyatta frowned at the wording, looking down.

“Oh, I am sorry, I—"  
“No, he’s not dead or anything—at least, as far as I know. He just. Doesn’t talk to me much at all. I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. He left as soon as he turned eighteen, and I haven’t seen him since.”

“How long has it been?”

Hanzo shrugged, eyes downcast.

“Two years.”

Zenyatta chewed on his lip, then looped his arm through Hanzo’s.

“I am sorry.”

“It’s...Fine, I guess. We weren’t on the best terms anyways, by the time he left. I just...He was supposed to help me, and he was kind of my best and only friend, so. For him to just leave the way he did...It. I don’t know,” Hanzo shrugged, sighing before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter now. He’s probably off living the life he always dreamed of, and I’m happy for that. He never liked it here, everyone knew that. I just get bitter about it sometimes.”

Zenyatta nodded. It was not often Hanzo spoke his mind so freely, and even less so his feelings.

“I do not know the full story, but it seems understandable. Having family leave is hard, especially when you are close. And it is okay to be hurt by it, even if you think they are happier.”

Hanzo simply nodded, Zenyatta knowing he was done with the conversation. He normally closed up after one like this, would go very quiet and pensive. Zen knew there was a lot on his mind even without personal issues clouding it more. However, he had taken Hanzo out to have fun, and he planned to do just that.

“Well, you know what always makes me feel better? Ice cream! Let us go get some ice cream!”

“Zen, it’s freezing.”

“You are just like a lizard, it is not that cold. Have some ice cream and coffee.”

“A lizard?”

“Yes, like cold blooded! They are always cold.”

“That’s...Really not how it works. And you just called the head of the Shimada clan a lizard.”

“Because you are like a lizard! You only like it when it is twenty-four degrees.”

Hanzo raised his brows with a little nod, Zenyatta pushing against his side lightly.

“Besides, I said we will get coffee too.”

“I do like coffee...”

“So, let us go! Coffee and ice cream!” Zenyatta cheered, Hanzo huffing a laugh and letting himself be dragged along. 

The monk smiled. Making sure Hanzo was happy had quickly become a personal goal of his, and no matter how long he had his job, Zenyatta felt like he would always want to make sure he was okay. He liked seeing Hanzo smile, it made him feel warm and fuzzy in his chest. 

They went into a coffee shop, both their noses red, the wind starting to bite. Zenyatta stayed huddled to Hanzo’s side as they ordered, then went to a little table to wait. He looked around at everyone as they bustled about, watched them talk, laugh, and smile, eyes eventually landing on Hanzo. Hanzo, who blinked and looked away from him quickly, setting his forearms on the table. Zenyatta smiled a bit, reaching out and taking Hanzo’s hands, rubbing them between his own. He startled a bit, confused, pulling back for a moment.

“Your hands are freezing! No wonder you do not like the cold!” Zenyatta giggled, holding fast until Hanzo relaxed.

“Yeah, being cold-blooded is tough.”

The monk tilted his head, then laughed, Hanzo giving him a little half-grin. He took back his hands when Zenyatta was through seeing to it that they were warmed, setting them in his lap. Their drinks and ice cream came quickly, Hanzo suggesting they take it to go as the cafe started to get more crowded.

“I don’t really want anyone to see me,” he explained as he and Zenyatta left, head down.

“Why not?”

“They act weird around me, and it puts everyone in danger if people see me without guards like this.”

“Oh. Well, just keep your hood up, then,” Zenyatta said, tugging Hanzo’s hood up for him, patting his head. They walked through a park, Hanzo tapping Zenyatta’s side lightly and tipping his head in a short motion.

“This way.”

The monk followed him happily, sipping on the tea he had gotten, keeping him warm. He gasped when he saw the octopus sign from when they had gone shopping for the first time, running over to the vendor excitedly.

“You remembered! I thought you did not even look!” Zenyatta exclaimed, tugging on Hanzo’s sleeve. He shrugged with a small, satisfied grin.

“You got so excited, of course I remembered.”

Zenyatta smiled at him, crouching down to look at the cartoon octopus again. It was holding little sticks with something fried on them, Zenyatta tilting his head at the Kanji.

“Tako...Takoyaki...? Hanzo, what is takoyaki?” Zen asked, looking up to find Hanzo holding two sticks of what was apparently takoyaki.

“Fried octopus.”

“What?! Oh no! Oh no, oh no, you cannot eat that! You—Why is the cute little octopus holding its fried friends?!”

“Holding reverence for the fallen,” Hanzo shrugged, biting a little ball of the takoyaki off the stick and chewing on it.

“No!!! Do not eat it!!” Zenyatta screeched, covering his eyes as Hanzo raised a brow.

“Zen, they’re already dead and fried.”

“But it was just a harmless little octopus! And you are eating it!”

“Yeah, because it’s delicious, try it.”

“I will not! This is terrible and sad and I think I may cry.”

“It’s just an octopus.”

Zenyatta pointed venomously at the sign, “Look that adorable octopus in the eye and say that again!”

“It is just. An octopus.”

Zenyatta turned on his heel and started to walk off, Hanzo chasing after him with a laugh.

“I was joking! I’m still going to eat this though, I’m sorry, but it’s good,” he called, Zenyatta crossing his arms over his chest.

“That is it! I am through with you, Hanzo, I wish to return back to Nepal now, thank you!”

“No, wait, I take it back!”

“It is too late! Not only have you disrespected the octopus, you have disrespected me! I simply cannot live with it anymore,” Zenyatta sighed dramatically, trying his best to smother his smile as Hanzo ran in front of him and took his shoulders. He was laughing. Truly laughing with a big smile showing teeth, making his cheeks turn red. And Zenyatta could not take his eyes off of him.

“Okay, okay! Here, I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll get you a little octopus like the one on the sign, how’s that?” Hanzo told him through a chuckle, breathless. Zenyatta made a face like he was contemplating, though, his smile only grew.

“I suppose it will have to do.”

Hanzo grinned, Zenyatta resisting the urge to reach out and take his face in his hands.

“Come on, I’ve been looking at it for a while, but I didn’t know if you’d like it.”

“Huh?”

“Just follow me!” Hanzo urged, taking Zenyatta’s hand this time and leading him along. They went into a children’s store, the monk smiling a bit at all the little trinkets and toys on display.

“I had to get something here for a family meeting, one of my cousins is real little and she’s sweet, so I wanted to get her something and I saw—Yeah! I saw this,” Hanzo told him, pointing at a pink plush octopus. Zenyatta gasped and snatched it off the rack, squeezing it to his chest. It made a squeaking sound, the monk’s eyes going starry as he looked back up at Hanzo.

“It squeaks!” he squeaked, Hanzo laughing.

“Uh-huh! You want it?”

“Yes, please!!”

Hanzo smiled and took it up to the counter, paying for it while Zenyatta watched the transaction closely, making sure the octopus was going into the bag. Hanzo took it, Zenyatta reaching out for it. He dug into the bag and pulled the toy out, giggling as they walked out of the store and squeezed it tightly.

“Does this make up for the takoyaki?” Hanzo teased. Zenyatta threw his arms around Hanzo, making him stumble a bit.

“Thank you, Hanzo!”

He felt arms tentatively wrap around him in return, nuzzling his face against Hanzo’s chest as he was held gently. Hanzo was always so gentle.

“You’re welcome. Thanks for taking me out, it was fun. I’d been having a bad day before.”

“Well, I guess we will have to do this more often, then. As your personal adviser, I advise having more fun and hopefully good days with me!”

“I mean, can I really go against the law of my very own personal adviser?”

“No, I forbid it!”

They both laughed, walking back to the compound lazily, Zenyatta leaning against Hanzo every now and then and feeling him wrap his arm around his waist at the end.


	6. Dragons and Gold

Zenyatta flipped the page of his book, legs crossed, poised even though they were still in the car. They were on their way back from a meeting a few hours from home, Zenyatta still in business mode. His tan trench-coat and scarf kept him warm, though, it was starting to get stuffy. Hanzo was sitting next to him, transferring whatever notes he had taken during the meeting to his tablet. Zenyatta flipped the page again. Sensed Hanzo tense slightly, head turning to look out the tinted window. His fingers went to his ear piece, Zenyatta closing his book with a frown.

“Hanzo, what is it?”

“Risa-san, can I get a scan on—Shit!”

Hanzo was interrupted by a rapid-fire blast of gunshots, ducking down immediately and taking Zen with him. The monk screamed as they were hit on the opposite side, the door denting in. Screeching of tires and shattering metal and glass was all Zenyatta heard for a moment, then the car slung him against the door. Hanzo grabbed his shoulders as he blinked rapidly.

“Are you okay?!”

“Yes, I am fine,” Zenyatta nodded, Hanzo turning and crawling to the front of the car.

“I will drive.”

Risa grimaced as more gunshots came from behind, Zenyatta keeping himself flattened to the seat.

“Sir, I cannot allow that—"

“That is an order, Risa. Protect Zenyatta with your life, do you understand me?” Hanzo demanded, Risa cursing as she flung herself out of the seat and into the back next to Zenyatta. She pulled out her pistol, glancing behind them.

“I got eyes on three SUVs on our tail, gunners on the side!” Risa shouted, Zenyatta clinging to a seat as the car jumped forward.

“Copy that. If any get too close, take them out.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hanzo took a sharp turn, Risa only tilting a bit whereas Zenyatta tumbled forward. He peeked up at Hanzo, saw him yank the wheel to the side just in time to brace himself. More gunshots, Zen hearing them move up the side of the car. A window shattered. Hanzo cursed loudly. Blood started to soak the side of his arm.

“Sir!”

“Hanzo!”

“I’m fine! Hold on!”

Zenyatta grit his teeth as the tires screeched again, Risa shouting something into her ear-piece that he could not understand. They got onto a back road, bullets still coming their way. Zenyatta heard more, though. He looked behind them, seeing their Shimada guard vehicles come up behind the attackers.

“Sir, we have reinforcements! Take this road to the main street, I called in the police, they’ll be waiting there!” Risa called, Hanzo nodding. They barreled along the road, Zenyatta seeing the main road, cars zipping along. He turned to look out his cracked window, squinting a bit before his eyes widened.

“Hanzo, watch out!!” Zen shouted, Risa grabbing him to shield him, Hanzo turning to look right as a car hit them. The monk’s head hit the door, the sound of screeching metal and crashing suddenly giving out to ringing. The car rolled, Zenyatta slamming against Risa, eyes squeezed shut as they were tossed around. 

He did not quite know when they had stopped, but when he opened his eyes again, they were upside down. Zenyatta coughed, struggling to right himself. Risa’s head was resting in a pool of blood where he would have hit had she not held onto him, Zenyatta shaking her in a panic.

“Risa-chan? Risa-chan!”

Her eyes were staring blankly at the seat in front of her. Zenyatta checked her pulse, a cry leaving him when he could not feel one. He crawled to the front, hands cutting on the shattered glass covering the floor, but he could barely feel it.

“Hanzo!”

Hanzo was draped over the steering wheel, blood dripping from his lips, eyes closed. Zenyatta grabbed him and tugged, sliding him out of the seat. Smoke started to fill the car.

“Nngh—Come on!” he whimpered, pulling on Hanzo’s arm as he scooted towards the door. There was no opening it, but the window could be an escape. Zen maneuvered his way out, reaching back in to grab under Hanzo’s arms and haul him out. His leg caught on something.

“No! No, no no, come on! Please!” Zenyatta cried, crawling over Hanzo to try and get his leg free. He coughed again, the smoke making his eyes water. With a curse, Zen yanked Hanzo’s leg free, climbing back out and dragging him from the car as fast as he could. Hanzo groaned softly, Zenyatta taking his face in his hands.

“Hanzo?! Oh, thank the Iris you are alive! Hanzo? Can you hear me?!”

Hanzo blinked slowly, coughing as he rolled to his side, spitting blood. Zenyatta looked back to the car, biting his lip.

“I have to get Risa-chan! I will be right back,” Zen murmured, Hanzo taking his arm before he could turn.

“Don’t go back in,” he slurred, one eye red and swollen.

“But she still needs help!”

“Don’t. Go back in.”

Zenyatta pulled his arm free as gently as he could, Hanzo cursing as he ran back to the car.

“Zen—!”

The monk tied his scarf around the lower half of his face and crawled through the window, climbing into the back to take Risa’s foot. He pulled, sliding on the broken glass a bit. Zenyatta saw the pistol, grabbed it and shoved it into his pocket. Straining and coughing, he was finally able to get Risa out, dragging her next to Hanzo. He pulled his scarf off and wrapped it around the bullet wound on Hanzo’s arm, hands shaking. Hanzo hissed in pain, the monk pulling out his pistol as two cars came screeching to a halt in front of them. He stood and gripped the gun like Hanzo had taught him, flicking the safety off. 

Armoured guards came out of the cars, pointing their assault rifles at them, a man in a suit behind them. He gave Zenyatta a sickly smile, hands going into his pockets.

“Well well well, Shimada has a new little guard dog, does he? Or, are you his last resort?” he sneered, motioning his head to where Risa was lying.

“Touch him and I will kill you,” Zenyatta growled, gun unwavering as he leveled it at the man.

“Will you now? I just need Shimada, not you or anyone else. We have some...Deals I’m sure he would be more than happy to make in return for his life,” the man shrugged lightly, Zenyatta unmoving.

“You will not take him anywhere.”

“You are making this more difficult than it needs to be. I will give you one last chance before I kill you. Give me Shimada, or die.”

Zenyatta’s lip curled, finger tightening around the trigger. He startled when he felt Hanzo stand behind him, left hand coming up to hold his.

“Brace yourself,” he whispered. Zenyatta saw lightning crackle across his arm, eyes widening when Hanzo pulled the trigger for him. A jolt went through him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He felt a strange energy rush through him, his whole body burning like he was on fire for just a moment. 

Zenyatta gasped as ethereal blue light burst from the gun as it shot, an inhuman roar filling his ears. Gunshots went off, though, none hit him. Zenyatta watched in awe as two huge dragons rushed into their attackers, bodies twisting and curling magnificently. One blocked the bullets while the other tore through them, both growling and shrieking as blood splattered on the ground. Zenyatta took a step back, body feeling weak and tingly. He turned just as Hanzo’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed.

“Hanzo—!” he gasped, dropping next to him and shaking his shoulders. Zenyatta felt the hairs on his neck rise again, and he whipped around, blocking Hanzo’s body. The two dragons were staring at him, their massive forms opaque enough for Zenyatta to see the carnage they left behind through them. He looked back up at them, breathing heavily.

“Hello...” he murmured, one of them huffing. Zenyatta blinked as the breath washed over his face, the other one making a low sound in their throat. It did not sound threatening, rather, amused. Zen bit his lip, then looked back at Hanzo, realization hitting him.

“O-oh! Sorry, you can...Go back to him now? Is that how it works? Wait, is he okay?!”

'Yes, he will be fine, brave one.'

Zenyatta’s eyes widened at the voices that spoke, unable to tell how many or what kind. The dragons moved past him, Zenyatta scooting back as he watched them disappear into a blue mist that faded back into Hanzo’s arm. After a few seconds of still and silence, Hanzo coughed violently, rolling onto his side with a heave, blood dripping from his nose.

“Han! Are you alright?!”

“Yes, I—Are you?” he gasped, Zenyatta helping him sit up.

“I am fine! Fine. You need a doctor!”

“Risa-san called in back up to our position, they should be here soon,” Hanzo murmured, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Zenyatta turned his head with a gentle push, checking for injuries. Plenty of scrapes and bruises, but nothing that seemed too dire at the moment. The monk sighed, hugging Hanzo’s head to his chest.

“Zen, your knees...”

“What?”

“Your knees and hands are bleeding.”

“I cannot even feel it, I am alright,” Zenyatta shrugged, Hanzo looking up at him with furrowed brows.

“Thank you for protecting me.”

“I should really be the one saying that. But, it was no big deal.”

“You were willing to die for me...That is not ‘no big deal’.”

“Of course I am, Hanzo. You mean the world to me. And what was that with the dragons?! You never told me you had dragons!”

Hanzo blinked, then shook his head with a frown.

“You did not know?”

“No, I did not know you had giant blue dragons that come out of your arm with lightning and energy that can destroy things and talk!”

“They talked to you?”

“Yes!”

“Huh. Interesting...I knew they trusted you enough to let their energy flow through you, but I didn’t think they’d talk to you.”

“How did you do that?”

“The dragons?”

“No, shooting the pistol. Of course the dragons, silly!” Zenyatta exclaimed, Hanzo staring just past his shoulder for a moment.

“They are...In my family. Shimadas with pure, ancient blood running through their...What’s the word—Veins. They are gifted with spirit dragons.”

“Are you alright...?”

“Concussion is kicking in, adrenaline going away.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“You should probably lie down.”

“You’re probably right...”

Hanzo leaned against Zenyatta and closed his eyes, the monk holding his head delicately. They stayed like that until help arrived, all noise and orders and bustling activity Zenyatta could not focus on. They were brought back home safely, doctors taking them to care for their wounds before sending them straight to bed. Zenyatta could not have agreed with them more.

-

Hanzo had taken some time off to recover from the attack, Zenyatta caring for him when he forgot to do so for himself. The monk knew Hanzo was bad at remembering he was only human, and that he needed to treat himself like one. A few weeks passed, the both of them getting back to business like usual steadily. They were perfectly comfortable around each other now, both during work and in private times. 

Zenyatta had taken over part of the room as his own, Hanzo providing him with whatever he needed and accommodating it like they had been living with one another their whole lives. Sometimes, if Zenyatta could not sleep or had a nightmare, he would crawl into Hanzo’s bed, welcomed with open arms or a softly murmured reassurance. Hanzo did not sleep well, but he seemed to get better when Zenyatta was laying at his side. That was all the excuse Zen needed to scoot his way next to Hanzo just about every night. Besides, he slept better like that too. 

Work was easier for Hanzo when Zenyatta was there at meetings with him, listening and watching what Hanzo could not when he was focused on making a deal. They would talk it over afterwards, trading notes and going over documents twice as fast as Hanzo could have alone. He seemed extremely pleased to have the help, that ever-present crease in his brow slowly but surely disappearing. His frown was hardly a constant thing anymore, the stress lines around his eyes decreasing. He looked and acted healthier, Zenyatta proud of how far he had come in such a short amount of time. All he had needed was a helping hand. 

Zen sometimes thought about Genji, how he could have been doing this for Hanzo all along, but he knew it was not his place to judge. Besides, it would not have been Zenyatta’s job now if he had still been there, and the monk would not have given up the chance to meet Hanzo for the world. It had been a long day, Zenyatta mostly stuck doing paperwork and listening—or half-listening—to the elders drone on about some black market trade that had not gone completely according to plan in China. 

For his part, Zenyatta thought they were just making a big deal out of nothing, adding more stress to Hanzo’s shoulders to keep him in line. Focused, as they liked to say. Bullshit, as Zenyatta liked to say. 

He sighed as he undressed, putting on a robe before leaning over the sink to wash off the little bit of makeup he had put on that morning. Hanzo came in as he was rinsing his face, tugging his hair out of the bun it had been in. Zenyatta had braided some of his hair that morning, and it curled nicely as he let it loose.

“I like that!” Zenyatta told him, toweling his face and hands dry.

“I liked it in the braids. You’ll have to do that again for me.”

“I would love to! Your hair is so soft, and I do not get to play with any other since I do not have any.”

“Yeah, but you’re cute bald,” Hanzo hummed, Zenyatta’s shoulders scrunching up as he grinned.

“Mmhm!”

Hanzo laughed, running a brush through his hair as the monk started the bath. He stared at the running water for a moment, smile fading as he bit his lip and glanced back at Hanzo. Warmth bloomed in his chest again, just like every time he got to see Hanzo laugh or smile. Every time he simply got to see Hanzo. Warmth followed by the more recently discovered heat, something that curled in his stomach pleasantly as his eyes dropped to Hanzo’s bare chest. 

Zenyatta turned back to his task, feeling the water temperature. It was steaming, perfect. 

He straightened, hands hovering over the sash of his bathrobe before he undid it fluidly, letting the silk part. It slipped from his shoulders like water, Zenyatta tisking softly as he folded it and set it on the counter. Facing Hanzo fully now, eyes flicking up, satisfied to find him staring. Hanzo blinked and quickly looked away, Zenyatta grinning a bit. Hooked. Hanzo was focusing too hard on his routine now, movements stiffer. The monk went back to the tub, hands resting on his collar as he debated. Toying with a delicate golden chain around his neck, placed there by Hanzo that morning. 

Perfect.

“Hanzo,” Zenyatta started, head turning to face him just over his shoulder, eyes downcast, coy.

“Could you help me with this, please?”

“Oh. Yes.”

Murmured with just the tiniest stutter. Zenyatta could practically feel the way Hanzo’s eyes dragged up and down his bare backside like a caress. He smiled, Hanzo coming up behind him quietly. Calloused fingers brushing against his nape as he carefully undid the clasp, arms reaching around Zen’s shoulders as he took the necklace off. Zenyatta turned and cupped his hands, Hanzo setting the little chain in them. Eyes lingering on his.

“Thank you,” Zenyatta whispered, placing it in the jewelry box sitting on the counter next to his robe. He went back to the bathtub, stepping into it with an exaggerated sigh.

“Mmmm...Feels good after today. I am still sore from training.”

Hanzo did not respond, chest rising and falling too steadily. Controlled. Eyes still on Zenyatta as he relaxed back into the tub, head lolling to expose his neck. The monk smirked.

“You are welcome to join me, you know,” he murmured, eyes drifting shut. Letting the invitation hang in the air. It was silent for a few moments before there was the shift of clothes and soft footfalls. Water splashing gently. Zenyatta scooted himself up to make room, smiling as Hanzo curled his knees to his chest, cheeks pink.

“Will you wash my back if I wash your hair?”

Hanzo smiled a bit, eyes scrunching with the motion.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Yay!”

Zenyatta slid over and scooted his way between Hanzo’s legs, leaning his head against his chest. Hanzo hesitantly curled his arms around him, the embrace firm after a moment. The monk made a happy little sound, eyes closing as Hanzo’s thumbs gently brushed over his shoulders, body finally relaxing. He was unsure how much time had passed, though, it was enough that the sound of Hanzo’s voice brought him out of a doze.

“We should probably wash before the water gets cold,” he murmured against Zenyatta’s temple, hands sliding up his back to rest on his shoulders. Zen hummed sleepily as he sat up.

“Mm, yes, that is a good idea...”

Zenyatta smiled as he poured water over Hanzo’s head, then scrubbed his hair thoroughly. He ran his fingers through the silky wet locks before turning and letting Hanzo get his back for him. Hanzo’s hands lingered on the monk when he was through, Zenyatta gazing up at him with a soft smile.

“Thank you.”

He stretched up and pressed a quick kiss to Hanzo’s lips, standing and grabbing his towel before Hanzo could see how red he was. Zenyatta wrapped it over his head and shoulders, reaching for his robe. After hearing Hanzo get out as well, Zenyatta finally chanced a look at him. Just as flustered, if not more so. The monk grinned to himself, drying off quickly and letting Hanzo have the bathroom to himself. 

He waited on the bed after getting dressed in the comfy, overlarge fit of one of Hanzo’s hoodies, letting the sleeves cover his hands as he basked in the feeling of warmth and Hanzo’s scent around him. Waited until Hanzo left the bathroom a good while later, hair brushed and dried, smelling of the expensive soap he loved and the lotion Zenyatta had picked out recently. A good mix. 

The monk held out his arms, Hanzo smiling a bit before he came over and tucked himself into their embrace. Zenyatta braided his hair again, pressing little kisses to the top of his head every now and then as he worked. Hanzo was asleep by the time he was through, Zen simply leaning back and holding onto him throughout the night.


	7. Family Gathering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since official Overwatch lore won't let Hanzo and Genji reconnect and be brothers again I did it for them.

Zenyatta smiled pleasantly at all the people walking through the gardens and onto the balcony. When Hanzo had said family would be coming over, Zen did not realize it would be so many. Aunts, uncles, cousins, a grandparent or two, people who had married into the name, distant relations that were somehow tied into the Shimada bloodline and invited to the castle. It was difficult to keep up with, but Zenyatta tried his best. He knew there would be some animosity floating around, Hanzo had told him to be especially wary of his uncles. 

After Shojiro had died, his brothers had argued over who would take his place until Hanzo was old enough to step in as the rightful heir. Ultimately, Hanzo ended up taking the mantle of oyabun early, the elders not wanting to deal with a family squabble that would likely end in some terrible way or another. Zenyatta could feel the disdain strongly from one uncle in particular, the man sending a glare at Hanzo every time he went by. He would make for some good gossip, and if Zenyatta could get close enough to him, he might learn if the man had any ill intentions for Hanzo. 

So he went over, bowing before introducing himself.

“Good evening. I am Zenyatta, it is nice to meet you. You are Shimada-san’s uncle, are you not?”

The man looked surprised, then a little smile curled his lips.

“Yes, I am Haru Shimada. May I ask what your duty is here? You seem familiar with Hanzo.”

“I am his personal assistant. I merely help with the paperwork and meeting arrangements,” Zenyatta told him lightly. A half-truth. Harder to sense than a flat out lie. The monk had been in enough Shimada business to know that they were always good at reading a lie, especially the ones that had grown up in the compound.

“Ah, I see. Sounds like you’re taking on Genji’s job, eh?” Haru chuckled, Zenyatta raising his brows. He was always interested in hearing more about Genji, the subject hardly being broached.

“You know of Genji?”

“Well, of course. He is to Hanzo what I was to my brother. Working side by side and all that. Though, Shojiro was more of a lone wolf kind of guy. That changed a bit with Saiumi, but she was special."

Zenyatta tilted his head at the new name. Saiumi.

“I hope it is not invasive, but who is Saiumi?”

“Hanzo and Genji’s late mother, though, I’m not surprised you have not heard of her. She died when they were young. Beautiful woman, very headstrong and witty. A good match for Shojiro, even if I was made a jealous man,” Haru laughed, Zenyatta giggling behind his hand. Always laugh at what they said, he had learned it was the easiest way to gain trust.

“She sounds wonderful.”

“She was. Anyways, enough stories about miscellaneous family, I’m sure you’ll get more than your fair share of those later. What about you? What brings a monk to the humble Shimada castle?” Haru asked, Zenyatta smiling.

“Abduction!”

Haru blinked, then hummed thoughtfully.

“Oh, so you’re one of those, then? I did not take Hanzo for that kind of man...”

“He is not. I was gifted to him, and he took me in only to offer a safe place to stay, recollect myself, and decide what I wanted to do next. He gave me this job to give me something to do, and I ended up liking it enough to stay. I am not held here against my will, nor am I an object to be used,” Zenyatta explained firmly, eyes hardening. He hated when people just assumed he was only with Hanzo because of intimate favours or as a pet of some sort.

“My apologies, I meant no disrespect. You actually remind me a bit of Saiumi; she was adamant about being with Shojiro by choice while still holding independence as her own person. I can appreciate that, it is a good quality. Genji gets that need for freedom and independence from her. Say, is he here, by any chance?”

“No. He left over two and a half years ago.”

“I know that, but normally he shows for these get-togethers at the very least to let Hanzo know he’s alive, maybe ask for a little money to keep him going. The kid’s got a good head on his shoulders, but he’s damn flighty,” Haru sighed, scanning the crowd. 

Zenyatta found himself doing the same, eyes eventually landing on Hanzo. Perhaps that was why he had been so agitated that morning, why he looked expectant now, glancing at the entrance every few seconds. The monk watched him with a muted sort of sadness. Hanzo really did not have any direct family left here. And yet, Hanzo was eager, he could tell from the way he held his shoulders, how alert he was, though, the crowd seemed to be as big as it was going to get. No one had come through the door in a while. Zenyatta decided that if Genji did show up, he was going to get a very, very stern talking to.

“I do hope he shows. I would like to meet him,” Zenyatta murmured, Haru shrugging.

“He’s nice enough. It’s a shame he left, though, he really only hurt himself in the end by doing it. All that money and power he could have had, all gone to waste,” Haru hummed wistfully, Zenyatta understanding rather clearly why this man did not like Hanzo now.

“Yes, how unfortunate,” he agreed with just a hint of sarcasm. Perhaps more than just a hint. Haru chuckled, patting Zenyatta’s shoulder.

“I like you, Zenyatta. You seem like a smart kid. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Zenyatta watched Haru walk away, looking up as Hanzo came over.

“He was nice to me,” Zen shrugged, Hanzo nodding absently.

“Yeah, he’s nice to everyone but me, it seems. I just didn’t want him targeting you because you are close to me,” he murmured. Zenyatta put a hand on his shoulder, gently grabbing Hanzo’s attention.

“Han, do not let this consume you.”

“Let what consume me?”

“Waiting on someone who is not worth your worry. Genji may come, but until he does, focus on the people here that are here for you,” Zenyatta told him softly, tone as kind as he could make it. Hanzo’s brow furrowed as he looked over the crowd.

“They’re here for favours or money. None of them are here for me.”

“I am here for you,” Zen reminded him, letting his hands drop to hold Hanzo’s, squeezing them lightly. Hanzo gazed at him for a long moment, expression softening into a little smile.

“Thank you.”

“Mm. Now, go talk to all those favour-hunting scoundrels.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Hanzo laughed, Zenyatta giggling.

“You know what I mean!”

“You’re so cute.”

Zenyatta beamed, then squeezed his hands one last time before moving off to socialize with their guests. An hour passed before food was served, Zenyatta chatting amiably with some of Hanzo’s cousins. They were all young and had recently started a family, gossiping about whose child was the most obnoxious and sharing stories of when they were the same age. Zenyatta laughed and found himself enjoying the evening, getting to know Hanzo’s family no matter how distant they might have been. 

There were quite a few young children running about the gardens, chasing one another and giggling. Zen had already cooed and fussed over the adorable little babies one of the ladies had as she told him all about them. Offered to let him take them off her hands for a minute so she could eat and socialize, which Zenyatta had been more than happy to do. He held one on his hip, a girl named Iku, her eyes wide as she watched the kids play and cherry blossom petals fall, tiny hands curled in Zenyatta’s expensive silk blouse. The other one was old enough to run around with the children, so Zenyatta had ushered him off to play. The monk pointed and explained to Iku what was happening, letting her pick up a petal and wave it around in glee.

“Yes, they are so pretty! No no, not food. Do not put it in your mouth,” Zenyatta chided gently, taking Iku’s hand and moving it away from her mouth. Hanzo came over with a plate of food, brow raised as he looked at Iku.

“Did Hanako-kun coerce you into taking care of her kids?” He asked through a light laugh, Zenyatta smiling.

“They are sweet, it is no problem for me, I love them!”

Iku squealed at Hanzo, and he patted her head, leaning down to get at eye level.

“Don’t tell your mother, but here,” he whispered, handing her a small piece of strawberry. Iku blubbered and stuck it in her mouth, giggling as Hanzo tapped her nose. Zenyatta watched the exchange with a soft smile, startling as the children screamed.

“Oh, here they come,” Hanzo murmured, setting the plate down and crouching as the kids all ran over to him with a chorus of ‘Hanzo’s. A little girl ran straight into his arms, and he hugged her tightly.

“How’s my favourite little cousin, hm? Keeping Daisuki on his toes?”

“Hanzo! I got to start training on horseback yesterday!” the little girl exclaimed, Hanzo raising his brows.

“Wow, that’s really special!”

“I wanna get as good as you one day! Mama won’t let me use a bow yet, though.”

“Well, tell her that I said you can’t get better unless you practice.”

The little girl nodded, Hanzo reaching out to hug the rest of the kids. They all told him stories and cut one another off in their excitement, Zenyatta giggling at their antics.

“Do you have any treats?” One boy asked eagerly, Hanzo making a face and scoffing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he murmured, hand reaching into his suit jacket. The kids all gathered around and shooshed one another as Hanzo glanced pointedly at their parents, hands going out as he revealed a palm full of candies.

“You never got anything,” he whispered, the children all giggling and keeping their voices down as they took a candy. They ran off after that, Hanzo standing and brushing off his suit.

“I did not realize how good you are with kids,” Zenyatta hummed, Hanzo’s smile fading a bit as he watched them play. Zen tilted his head.

“Most of their parents are hard on them. Too hard. It does nothing to help, only creates problems for them in the future, makes them think they cannot be good enough. That’s the way the Shimada clan system works. You must always be better. The riches and prestige come with a mental price. I don’t want that for them,” Hanzo sighed, Zenyatta pursing his lips.

“My mother died when I was young. I don’t talk about it much because I simply don’t remember her all that well. I grew up without a mother, and my father was harder on me for it. He...Expected a lot from me, needed me to be perfect, treated me different since I was the heir. Genji he was gentler with because he reminded him of mother. But I’m sure that was hard on Genji, too, having to live up to a woman he had never really met. We all have our issues, and they’re too young to be burdened with worry, especially that which is put there simply because of the name they were born into. It’s not their fault, and they didn’t ask for it.”

Zenyatta leaned against Hanzo’s shoulder after a moment, humming thoughtfully.

“Well, I am glad you are able to recognize what has burdened you, and I know they are lucky to have someone like you around to guide them, even if they do not see you all that often. They clearly remember you, and you have a positive impact on them.”

“Yeah. I just hope they turn out better than I did,” Hanzo murmured. Zenyatta turned to face him, brows furrowed.

“We have talked about this. You are wonderful, Hanzo. Do not be so hard on yourself.”

“Ba ba bah!” Iku exclaimed, bouncing a bit in Zenyatta’s hold, arms waving.

“See, Iku agrees.”

Hanzo smiled at that, eyes soft as he looked at Zenyatta. Suddenly, his face went stony again, Zenyatta sighing as he heard a familiar voice.

“Hanzo! Been a long time, kid!” Haru boomed, Hanzo stepping away from Zenyatta and Iku.

“Not long enough,” he muttered darkly, the monk hiding his smile behind his hand.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask, since Genji left you and all, how’s the business holding up? Gotta be tough all on your own.”

“I manage,” Hanzo responded, tone clipped.

“Well, managing sure isn’t good enough, don’t you think? You should be prospering!”

“I assure you, the clan has never been better.”

“Aw, I don’t doubt that! I just doubt letting a kid run it all on his own. You’re what, twenty-one, twenty-two?”

“More or less.”

“No need to be so standoffish, Hanners,” Zenyatta saw Hanzo visibly tense at the name, jaw tightening, nostrils flaring. “All I’m saying is that—and no offense to your little personal assistant or whatever you want to call them—if you ever need a little help from another Shimada, I’m free. Got lots of experience!”

“Ever so generous, Haru-san, but again, I assure you that I manage, and the clan is fine.”

“Listen, kid,” Haru muttered, clapping a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder, tugging him closer. Hanzo’s lip curled. “I didn’t wait twenty-years for my dear brother to kick the bucket just to have what should have been mine stolen away from me by some power-hungry kid who can hardly keep the mess of himself together, much less an empire. So, if what I’ve been hearing from the elders about your little outbursts is true, maybe you should start thinking long and hard about the little deal I’m offering you here,” Haru told him in a whisper, patting Hanzo’s shoulder. 

Hanzo was staring straight ahead, Zen recognizing the look. He was either about to break down or kill someone. Or both. Zenyatta set Iku back into her cradle, wandering over with a falsely sweet smile, hands behind his back.

“Haru-san! I could not help but overhear some...Interesting accusations you made just now! I actually just had a conversation with the elders the other day—tell me, when did you have the time to speak with them if you just arrived from important business in, where was it, South Korea?—and they are quite impressed with what Hanzo has done for the clan in such little time. And at his age, too, as you like to point out, he is one of the most successful oyabuns the clan has ever had. Your lies do hit a nerve, I am sure, but I sense they are lies you must tell yourself, as well. You will not get the clan, it was never meant for you. Take the cards you were dealt, and do not try and overcompensate to get what was never yours, lest you lose your hand entirely. Now, it is in your best interests to remember who you are talking to, no matter how you may feel about him. He is still your leader. Do not forget your pledges to him, because I will not forget you.”

Haru stared at him, eyes narrowing as he held up a finger.

“See, this is why I like you. You got spunk. You know, if I liked you any less, I would kill you for saying that. But as it is,” Haru reached out, Zenyatta leveling him with a hard, cold stare, unflinching. Haru pat his shoulder, a smile crossing his features unpleasantly. Hanzo relaxed slightly from where he had looked ready to break Haru’s arm.

“You got my respect, kid. I see why Hanzo took you in. You’re damn good.”

“I know I am. Leave us.”

Haru huffed a dry laugh, nodding to himself as he raised his hands. He said no more as he walked away with a scathing look, Zenyatta keeping the cold stare in place. Hanzo turned his gaze to him, Zenyatta smiling brightly and scrunching up his shoulders.

“I see why you hate him!”

“I was about to kill him.”

“I know, that is why I stepped in.”

“You...I can’t believe you did that.”

“He was being an asshole.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, I can curse.”

“Sorry, I’m just surprised.”

“I should have interjected sooner. I am sorry, I know he said some terrible things,” Zenyatta murmured, though, Hanzo surprised him with a little grin.

“No, it’s fine. It’s nice having someone take my side at all."

“I told you, I am here for you.”

“I am grateful for it,” Hanzo hummed, reaching out and tapping Zenyatta’s arm lightly before he frowned, hand slipping into his pocket. Zenyatta tilted his head as Hanzo pulled his phone out, brow furrowing as he read the message.

“What is it?”

“It’s...Genji. He says his flight was delayed, but he still wants to meet up for dinner.”

“Well, do you want to?”

“He flew all the way out here, I can hardly say no.”

“Yes, you can. If you do not feel up for it, you have every right to tell him no. I mean, he is coming at you with this out of the blue, after how long of silence?” Zenyatta bit out, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone. Hanzo’s brow rose, Zen clearing his throat and taking a breath.

“It is up to you, though. Forgive me, I should not let my opinion of him overwhelm my thoughts.”

“Don’t apologize. I want to know your opinions, Zen. That’s why you’re my personal assistant, I want to listen to what you have to say. Now, I would like to see him, but you are right. This is the first time he’s texted me in months.”

“Well. I suppose there is no harm in simply having dinner, if you are feeling like you can handle it.”

“I can.”

“Hanzo, I mean it. I do not want this to put you in a bad mindset, or for him to hurt you more. Because that tends to happen when we talk about him,” Zenyatta reminded him softly, Hanzo looking down and biting his lip. He was quiet for a long moment, the monk running his thumbs over the backs of his hands, waiting patiently for him to gather his thoughts.

“I just...Really miss him. I want to see him again.”

“Then we will. But if I see things start to get rough, do I have your permission to take you back home?”

“Yes,” Hanzo assented easily, Zenyatta smiling.

“Okay. Set up a time and place, then. I can stay if you want me to, I do not just want to assume you want me to tag along—"

“No, please come. I want him to meet you, and...I’ll feel better if you’re there.”

“Alright. Let me know when you have everything ready.”

-

It was dark outside, Zenyatta fiddling with the rings he had on idly as they waited in the booth for Genji to show. Hanzo had changed into something less formal, though, Zenyatta had stayed in the same outfit he had been wearing to lunch. He liked it, liked the way he looked and felt in it. Eyes were on him, darting away bashfully when he would look over, hand held to his mouth, legs crossed. He had perfected the air of confidence and knowledge over the months he had been with Hanzo, face neutral and eyes sharp, challenging anyone who looked at him for too long. 

Tonight, he was especially cold, hoping Genji would take a hint and behave. Already, he was fifteen minutes late. Hanzo was twirling a strand of his hair—Zenyatta could not get it to stay in his braided bun for the life of him—around his finger, eyes trained on the door. Finally, it opened, Hanzo perking up as he seemed to recognize the man who walked through. 

He had short, spiky raven hair, the same eyes and cheekbones as Hanzo, form slimmer than his brother’s, but no less muscular. He had his hand in his pocket, the other resting at his side, at ease. Confident, handsome, lips sporting a cocky little smirk that seemed quite unconscious as people turned to stare at him. Zenyatta hummed almost inaudibly to himself, eyes narrowing as Genji looked around, seeing them after a moment.

“Anija!” he called jovially, Hanzo smiling a bit hesitantly. He glanced at Zenyatta, who crossed his arms over his chest and made a little movement with his hand. He had agreed to simply watch and let Hanzo spend time with his brother, decided he would not say anything unless he had to.

“Hello, Genji.”

“It’s good to see you! You’re looking well! Everything been going alright?”

Zenyatta resisted the urge to reach out and slap Genji as he hugged Hanzo and sat down like he had never left. Those words, flung out so easily. If he had been there for Hanzo, he would know. If he had simply asked, kept in touch at all, he would know. It almost felt like he was jabbing at Hanzo on purpose.

“Things have been fine, yes. How...Um. How have you been?”

“Great, actually. I’ve been traveling a lot with someone I met earlier this year, it’s been really fun!”

“Oh. Sounds...Good. I’m glad,” Hanzo nodded. Zenyatta glared at the table. 

He had seen Hanzo’s phone, the texts he had sent to Genji with no response. Always asking if he was doing alright, if he was okay, that he was welcome to talk should he ever need anything. Always left on read. Genji glanced at Zenyatta, the monk meeting his gaze with his own steely one. This close, he could see the little bit of makeup Genji had on to accentuate his eyes and draw attention to his lips. Playboy. Shallow, too, from the looks of it. Zenyatta may have been biased, though.

“Hey. You’re gorgeous, just by the way. I haven’t seen you before. What’s your name?”

“Zenyatta.”

Bit out and cold, Genji glancing at Hanzo with an uneasy look in his eye. Zenyatta knew that look. People assuming again.

“That’s a pretty name. Now, it might just be me, but I think I’m detecting a certain amount of animosity here, is everything okay?” Genji asked, eyes hardening with a new sharpness to his tone.

“Oh, it is not just you,” Zenyatta muttered, Hanzo clearing his throat.

“So, I’d actually like this dinner to not be a disaster, please, will the both of you behave?”

“Tell your little prize here to behave, and we’d be fine! And when did you get like this, Hanzo? I didn’t think you, of all people, would do something like this!”

“I am not anyone’s prize! Do you truly think so little of your brother? I am here by my own choice, I help Hanzo by my own will, and I do not take kindly to people continually treating me like I am an object to be won! You, of all people, might know this if you had been here, Genji, so take your disgusting insinuations and fuck off!” Zenyatta spat, Genji blinking with a scoff of indignation. Hanzo closed his eyes, then stood and tapped the table, effectively quieting them both.

“Two minutes. That’s all you could manage. Two fucking minutes, and the whole night has been ruined. Gods, what did I expect...” he murmured, walking out of the restaurant without looking back. Zenyatta blinked, brows furrowing before he turned a glare to Genji, standing abruptly and flipping him off as he ran after Hanzo.

“Hey!”

“Hanzo! Hanzo, please wait!”

“Hey, stop!”

Zenyatta was about to turn a corner when Genji grabbed his wrist. He turned sharply and slapped him, yanking his arm free.

“Do not dare touch me again!”

“Fuck! Okay, okay, I won’t. Just... Stop. Let him go, okay?”

“No, I will not just leave him—!”

“Listen to me!” Genji snapped, Zenyatta glaring at him and huffing.

“We both fucked up, okay? He’s pissed at both of us, so if you go after him now, he’ll just get more upset. Let him cool off a bit, give him some time to think alone,” Genji explained, Zenyatta chewing on his lip. He hated to admit it, but Genji was right. The younger Shimada leaned against the wall and closed his eyes with a sigh, running his hands over his face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say those things back there or...Insinuate anything.”

“Then why did you say it?”

“Because I didn’t want them to be true, okay?! I wanted to make sure they weren’t true, to make sure you were okay and not being held against your will. I went about it the wrong way, I know. I just...That’s the part of this business I hate the most, is the people getting taken and used. I didn’t want Hanzo to be that person too, and before you get mad again, no, I don’t think so low of him. I think the world of him, so I was just surprised and maybe a little angry. But I should have just asked,” Genji mumbled. Zenyatta huffed, leaning against the wall next to him.

“If you really thought the world of him, why did you leave?”

“That’s not really your business.”

“Hanzo is my business, which makes his business my business, so yes, it actually is.”

Genji frowned, glancing at Zenyatta.

“What exactly are you to him?”

“A friend. Technically, I am his personal assistant.”

“Oh. So, what I was supposed to be,” Genji murmured, Zenyatta glaring at the ground. “I get why you’re so angry, then.”

“Good. Because I am not any less just because you suddenly realize the obvious.”

“Hey, I’m trying to be nice.”

“I do not want you to ‘try and be nice’, I want you to...I do not know! Treat Hanzo the way he deserves to be treated, maybe? Give him a little effort back? He thinks the world of you too, you know!” Zenyatta griped, hands moving agitatedly as he spoke.

“He does...?”

“Of course he does! Do you not see how much he tries to reach out to you? All he does is worry about you and wish for your happiness. Every time we talk about you, he always amends it with how he is glad you are able to live the life you want, even if he was left behind in the process!” 

Zenyatta sank down to the sidewalk, crossing his legs and setting his hands in his lap with a sigh. 

“I just...Want him to be happy, too. I do not mean you any harm or ill-will, forgive me for my outburst. I just want him to be happy above all else. But when we talk about you, he just gets so...Upset...” Zenyatta murmured. Genji sat down next to him, running a hand through his hair.

“I know...”

“Then why do you do this?”

“Because...It’s like every time we talk, something like this happens. I left when we were on bad terms, and I feel like our old insecurities and anger from the past is still here, haunting us. I fuck up every time we meet up in some way or another and make him mad or upset, so I just...Took myself out of the equation for him. The less he has to think about me, the less issues he has, right? One less disappointment to worry about,” Genji told him, voice quiet. Zenyatta tilted his head, noticing the tears in Genji’s eyes.

“I love him, I really do, and I want him to be happy too. I just figured he could only really be happy without me around burdening him, you know? Because that’s what I was doing. We were a burden to each other and what we wanted for our lives. Sometimes things don’t work out, and this didn’t. Our relationship didn’t. We were like strangers by the time I finally got up the nerve to leave, and he let me. He watched me go without so much as a goodbye. So I just assumed he hated me and decided I couldn’t let that bother me anymore. I cut ties, disappeared. Figured we would both be better off for it, even if it wasn’t what I truly wanted. That was a few years ago, and we got better, but it’s still strained at best, I guess. Not like I’ve helped with silence, and I know I’ve been selfish, I always have,” Genji laughed self-depreciatively, Zenyatta setting his hand on his forearm. 

The younger Shimada blinked, looking at him.

“Have you told Hanzo any of this?”

“No...He—I’m worried it would end up like this if I did. Worse off. We’re both stubborn, and there’s just...So much distance between us now.”  
“Well, if there is so much distance, why not take the first step to closing it and explain to him how you feel?” Zenyatta offered, Genji wiping his eyes and shrugging.

“I’m scared to. I’m scared I’ll lose him for good, that I’ll say or do something wrong and that’ll be it. Being at a distance is better than not having him at all. He’s all I’ve got left.”

“Then tell him that. He will understand, I am sure of it!”

“I do understand.”

Zenyatta and Genji both looked up, Hanzo sitting on the edge of the bridge walkway above them.

“Goddamn you...” Genji muttered, Hanzo dropping and landing quietly next to them. He sat down with them, arms resting on his knees.

“Did you hear all of it?” Genji asked, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves, eyes downcast.

“Yeah.”

Zenyatta watched them both fidget, biting back a little smile at their similar movements. He would stay quiet this time.

“So. Can I say I’m sorry? For everything?” Genji murmured, Hanzo nodding.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, too. For the way I treated you back then, and now. I knew you just wanted to be free, that you didn’t mean any harm in it, but I just took it so personally. I was angry that you wanted to go, jealous that you could actually do it with hardly any consequences, and scared of losing you too. I...Was lonely enough as it was, and I didn’t want to imagine what it would be like if you were gone, how hard things would get...But I ended up driving you away anyways. I became the person I promised you I wouldn’t, and that...I understand why you left. And I’m okay with you still living the life you want, so long as you are happy with it and finally enjoying it,” Hanzo explained—albeit haltingly—Genji looking up at him tentatively.

“I want you to be living the life you want too, Han. I want you to be happy and enjoy yourself just as much.”

“I am. Well, I am working on it. But it has gotten a lot better,” Hanzo murmured, eyes flicking to Zenyatta before they went back to Genji. “I feel accomplished working for the clan, it gives me a drive and plenty to do. And I do enjoy most of it, more so now with Zenyatta’s help. Even if you do not agree with it all—and may I say that I do not either—it is still something I take pride in.”

“That’s fine. I get it, and I’m glad. As long as you are in a good place, and you take care of yourself.”

“I am.”

“Promise?”

Hanzo smiled, nodding.

“I promise.”

“Okay. Can I hug?”

“No.”

“What!?”

“I’m kidding,” Hanzo laughed, tugging Genji into a tight hug. It was returned just as fiercely.

“I love you, Gen.”

“Love you too, Anija.”

Zenyatta grinned, clapping his hands together lightly and putting them up to his lips. They parted after a moment, Hanzo patting his brother’s shoulder.

“Do you need somewhere to stay tonight? It doesn’t have to be in the castle, in fact, it’s probably best you stay away from there.”

“What, you don’t think the elders are gonna give me a warm welcome with big hugs?”

“Your audacity still remains...” Hanzo sighed, Genji chuckling and nudging him lightly as they stood.

“Yup! And thanks for the offer, but I’ve got a hotel already. It’s close though, so if you wanted to meet up again, we can.”

“Okay. Text me your plans?” Hanzo asked tentatively. Genji bobbed his head, giving a thumbs up as he started to walk away.

“I will!”

“You promise?”

“Promise!”

Hanzo smiled a bit as they watched Genji go, Zenyatta taking his hand and lacing their fingers together.

“I am proud of you,” he murmured, Hanzo squeezing his hand lightly. They began to walk back to the castle.

“Thank you for talking to him. I knew you two could eventually get along. But we really need to talk about your dinner manners.”

“I am sorry about the outburst. I was just so angry with him before...”

“It’s okay. You’re allowed to be mad, just...Time and place, you know?”

“Yeah...Sorry,” Zenyatta winced, Hanzo huffing a little laugh and wrapping his arm around the monk’s waist. Zen blushed as he was tugged to Hanzo’s side, a little kiss being pressed to his temple.

“We’ll just have to avoid that place for a bit, huh?”

“I suppose we will,” he giggled, hand coming up to rest on Hanzo’s chest. 

They went back to the castle and to their room, Zenyatta finally able to rinse off and change into some comfortable clothes. While his outfit had looked nice, it was a little stuffy and stiff after being worn all day. He crawled into bed, snuggling up while he waited for Hanzo to join him. It was not long before he felt the futon dip, Hanzo sitting criss-cross on it, facing him.

“Hey, you still up?”

“Yes.”

Zenyatta sat up, rubbing his eyes. Hanzo smiled at the motion, cradling Zenyatta’s cheek in his palm and pressing their foreheads together. Zen hummed happily, hands resting on Hanzo’s hips as he nuzzled his cheek lightly.

“I really am grateful for your help this evening. I’m happy I got to speak with him and that we came to an understanding. I’m just...I’m really, really happy,” Hanzo murmured, Zenyatta grinning.

“I am happy for you both, too. And I am so glad this made you happy. I love seeing your smile, the way you light up,” the monk whispered, hands moving up to hold Hanzo’s face. He practically melted into it, eyes closing as he made a soft, pleased sound. Zen giggled quietly, then leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. More confident and firm than the last one, but still chaste. 

He pulled away just a bit, meeting Hanzo’s slightly widened eyes with a serene smile. Hanzo then tilted his head and pushed back in, Zenyatta humming into the press of their lips, sliding one hand back into Hanzo’s hair. He was pulled against Hanzo more fully, eyes fluttering shut as he was kissed tentatively at first, then with gaining confidence. Unable to stop smiling as his back settled against the futon, arms tugging Hanzo down over him, cheeks warm. Kissing until their lips were slick and swollen, breaths quick and pulses raised. Hanzo hummed and smiled, then buried his face into the crook of Zenyatta’s neck sleepily. 

The monk hugged his head, keeping it there as he sighed, content, already falling asleep.


	8. May I?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My Zenyatta is intersex and terms used for it are clit and slit.

Zenyatta watched Hanzo as he knelt by his mother’s grave, Genji by his side. Smoke from the incense curled up peacefully, a light breeze carrying cherry blossom petals down to the grass. It was quiet, Zenyatta staying a pace or two back to let them have a moment. He had said a silent little prayer for Saiumi, then another for her two sons. They had brought her favourite flowers and some homemade snacks with them to set by her grave. 

Zenyatta had learned that Genji was a disaster in the kitchen, though, he never failed to laugh at whatever mess he had made and not give up until Hanzo shooed him away or showed him how to make the dish properly. Hanzo actually was quite good at cooking, and Zenyatta had stolen a few of the extra snacks to munch on while he giggled at the brothers’ playful banter. He had made a small, simple Nepali dish of momo to add to their little picnic, setting it by Saiumi’s grave with a bow and hopes that she would enjoy it. 

When the brothers finished with their thoughts and prayers, they stood, Hanzo coming back over to Zenyatta with a smile. He had been smiling a lot over the past few days, the monk adoring every moment he did.

“Thank you for coming with us. I appreciate it. I am sure mother would have loved you.”

“She sounds wonderful, I have only ever heard good things about her. I wish I could have met her!” Zenyatta chimed, Genji tapping Hanzo’s shoulder lightly.

“I’m going to go to father’s grave. You can come if you want, but you don’t have to,” he murmured, stepping away and giving Zenyatta a meaningful look. Hanzo sighed, Zen tilting his head at the odd wording.

“I will wait here if you want to go.”

“I should...” Hanzo murmured, following after Genji as they went further into the gardens. 

Zenyatta hummed, knowing it was probably a more private place their father was buried, somewhere for Shimadas only. He heard a twig snap behind him, a soft curse. The monk turned, blinking curiously at the person who frantically looked around, caught, trying to find a place to hide.

“Momo-chan?”

“No! I-I mean...Maybe, but for the sake of secrecy, I was never here!” she whisper-shouted, Zenyatta smiling as he walked over.

“Nonsense! I am sure they would not mind you being here to pay your respects as well.”

“I should not even be here, but I saw Genji-kun and I...I got excited! I have not seen him in a long time, I did not realize he had come to the family meeting!” Momo explained. Zenyatta shrugged.

“He did not. But he is in Japan for a little while, and he decided to spend it with Hanzo. They are on much better terms now, they talked a few nights ago and have been working on things ever since.”

“Oh how wonderful! No wonder Hanzo-sama seems so happy, oh, I’m so glad!”

“Yes, me too!" A pause, Zenyatta tilting his head. "Um. Momo-chan, can I ask you a question?”

“Mhm!”

“Why...Was their father not buried with Saiumi-san? And Genji said Hanzo could come if he wanted, why is that?”

Momo’s face slackened a bit, brows furrowing as worry seeped into her features.

“W-well, you see...Saiumi-sama was not actually a Shimada, she was married into the family, of course. But, she came from nothing. No other clan, no deal, nothing was gained from it. The elders were ashamed to have someone from the streets married to such a prestigious Shimada, but Shimada-sama married her for love! He truly loved her, so he pushed aside tradition for her. The elders were never happy about that, which is why she was not buried with the other Shimadas. But, that area is reserved for direct descendants of the ancient Shimada bloodline anyways. Only clan leaders and elders are buried there. This is a special place, her favourite spot in the gardens, so Shimada-sama let her rest here. As for why Hanzo-sama may be wary of visiting Shimada-sama’s grave...” Momo hesitated, hands wringing.

“He and Shimada-sama never quite got along. He was treated differently, unfairly compared to Genji-kun, especially when they were young. However, he treats it as though...He deserved it. That it was his duty to go through that to become stronger. I do not know if that is just what he says, though. Shimada-sama was always taking his anger and sadness out on Hanzo-sama, blaming him for why he was struggling, why Saiumi-sama died, saying he was not doing enough for the clan, even though he was just a boy. Hanzo-sama was forced to grow up too fast, and he was hardened to the world long before anyone should have been so he could help Shimada-sama. In the end, I think Hanzo-sama still partially blames himself for Shimada-sama’s early death, and Saiumi-sama’s...But it was not his fault. It was never his fault.”

Zenyatta bit his lip, brows furrowing.

“I see...”

“He is doing better, though. I...Have seen a great improvement in his mindset since...Well, since you came,” Momo murmured, eyes downcast. She glanced up at Zenyatta after a moment, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Zenyatta-chan...? May I ask you a question now?”

The monk blinked out of his thoughts, nodding with a little ‘mhm’.

“I...Are you and Hanzo-sama dating?” she blurted, eyes squeezing shut as she balled her hands into fists. Zenyatta stared at her, then felt himself go red.

“I-I mean...Yes, I suppose we are?” he stuttered, Momo sagging.

“You are?”

“I have not really thought about it before but yes. I do really like him and we have...Well, we have kissed before and there was this time where—" Zenyatta cut himself off, staring just past Momo’s shoulder before he shook his head. “It does not matter.”

“Oh...”

Momo curled her hands to her chest, face falling.

“Momo-chan—"

“No, it is fine. I do not know what I was expecting, and I know I never had a chance anyways considering...”

“Momo-chan, do not say that about yourself, you are wonderful! Please do not put yourself down—"

“No, no! It is not that. I just...Hanzo-sama does not like women is all. I know this and yet I still felt like perhaps he may notice me. It is unfair, selfish of me, I know, but I just think he is so wonderful...”

“Hanzo does not like women?” Zenyatta asked, confusion apparent in the tilt of his head.

“He is not interested in them, no. For relationships, that is! He respects them of course, but he has always shied away from taking a woman for a partner, especially when his father was setting up a marriage for him. Hanzo-sama was so upset about it, closed himself off even to Genji-kun. And that was when Genji-kun told me he was gay.”

“Oh. Well, yes I suppose that is kind of obvious now in hindsight considering him and I are...Dating.”

“Yes. But you cannot tell anyone! At least not anyone here. The elders would be furious if they knew...” Momo whispered, Zenyatta making a face.

“They are old and biased and wrong.”

“Do not say such things, they will hear!!”

“Oh, really? From who, the birds? I do not like them, and I do not fear them either. All they do is sit around all day, tisk at Hanzo, and make me angry. They are harmless,” Zenyatta shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest and shooting a glare towards the castle.

“Zen-chan, they carry the power and control! Just because they are not the ones who strike the killing blow does not mean they did not stage the murder!”

“Hanzo will not let any harm come to me, and besides, I am not as fragile and helpless as everyone seems to think I am.”

“I know, just...You are a good friend of mine, and I would hate to see anything bad happen to you, so please be careful for me!”

Zenyatta smiled, bringing Momo in for a hug.

“I will. Just for you.”

Momo sighed, then pulled back and bowed.

“Thank you. I must go finish the laundry, now!”

“Okay! Bye, Momo-chan! It was lovely talking to you,” Zenyatta called as she made her way back towards the castle hurriedly.

“Bye bye, Zen-chan!”

The monk waved, then sat and watched the wildlife in the gardens until the Shimada brothers came back. Genji was nudging Hanzo and giving him a rather devious looking smirk, the older Shimada simply closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. He seemed more exasperated than angry, Zenyatta taking their teasing as a good sign.

“I guess you’ll just never know,” Hanzo was saying, Genji gasping in an over the top manner.

“So you haven’t?! Like, at all? Damn, that’s...I mean, it’s up to you, but that’s still kind of sad.”

“Listen, you don’t get to judge me on this!"

“Oh, Anija, please. I’m the only one who does,” Genji snickered, Hanzo shaking his head.

“You know what, it was nice having you gone, you can leave whenever you want.”

“Ruuuuude!”

“Now now, be nice to one another,” Zenyatta chided, going to Hanzo’s side and taking his hand, lacing their fingers together. He loved doing that. Genji raised a brow at Hanzo with another look, though, he stayed quiet. Hanzo simply gave him an unimpressed stare back, pressing a little kiss to the top of Zen’s head.

“Come on, we have to take Genji out of here before he gets even more stir crazy.”

“Yeah, this place sucks!! Not your garden, Mama, just the compound,” Genji quickly amended, glancing at Saiumi’s grave apologetically.

“I have some things I need to attend to, but I will be available all day tomorrow, if you still want to do something. And when do you have to head back home?”

“Two days. Jesse’s waiting for me in Spain to meet his family.”

“Oh, so it’s serious, then?”

“I mean. We’ve been traveling together for a while, and his dads want to know what’s up,” Genji shrugged nonchalantly, Hanzo raising a brow.

“My god, you are serious.”

“I mean, yeah. I want it to be, because I really, really like him. And he’s excellent in bed too, so that’s just icing on the cake.”

“Of course...” Hanzo muttered, rubbing a hand over his forehead. Genji grinned, leading them to the Shimada gates. They said their goodbyes, Hanzo smiling to himself as Genji disappeared.

“I’m glad he’s found someone he likes so much. He had a lot of issues with his image and confidence when we were younger, so for him to settle down with someone, to talk about them like that, is special. He must really be happy,” Hanzo murmured, Zenyatta tipping his head against his shoulder.

“I am happy for him. He is a good person, now that I am not upset with him.”

“He really is."

Zenyatta slid his hand down Hanzo’s arm, taking his hand and turning to face him.

“Are you alright? After these past couple of days and visiting the graves?” he asked softly, Hanzo nodding.

“I actually feel really good. Like this is a step to making things better for everyone.”

“Wonderful! I am so proud of how far you have come, Hanzo. And it fills me with such joy to see you smiling so much. You being happy makes me happy!”

Hanzo smiled again, beautiful and pure. Zenyatta’s heart sped up in his chest, just like it always did, love swelling in warm waves. Love. The monk hummed softly to himself as they walked back to the castle, their room. It was dusk by the time they had eaten dinner and gotten through the last bit of work for the day, Zenyatta sighing happily as he leaned back on the floor.

“It is finally all finished! We are actually ahead of things right now, which is wonderful. Though, I suppose they will just give us more to do instead of a free day, hm?” Zenyatta chatted mindlessly.

“What if we do take the day off tomorrow?” Hanzo asked, sitting cross-legged beside the monk and looking down at him curiously, hair falling into his face. Zenyatta pushed it back, threading his fingers through the silky strands without actually sitting up.

“Well, it is an option, assuming nothing pops up. There are no scheduled meetings or deals taking place. Did you have something in mind that you wanted to do?”

Hanzo stared at him a long moment, cheeks gaining a flush of colour when he finally glanced to the side.

“For this evening, yes...” he murmured. Zenyatta sat up, tilting his head with a small smile and a raised brow.

“Oh? What is it you had in mind?”

Hanzo hesitated, avoiding meeting Zenyatta’s gaze, his blush darkening. How utterly adorable.

“I...Do not want to overstep...”

“Hanzo,” Zenyatta sighed, sliding into his lap and wrapping his arms over said man’s shoulders with a coy grin.

“If you want to fuck me, all you have to do is ask,” he purred, nuzzling against Hanzo’s cheek as his eyes widened slightly. They then narrowed, Hanzo pushing back against him, arms slipping around his waist.

“Well then. May I?”

Zenyatta smiled, that familiar heat starting to gather at his core as he whispered against Hanzo’s lips.

“Of course, my love.”

Hanzo kissed him softly at first, hands trailing up his stomach and smoothing over his chest as they slowly became more ravenous. As if he had been holding back before, as if he had been thinking about it for a while. Zenyatta hoped he had, hoped there was as much want there as he had been keeping at bay. The monk made a little sound as he was pushed back, eyes slipping shut as he parted his lips eagerly, savoring the weight and warmth of Hanzo over him. Pressing against him as they kissed, the sounds slick as he was ravished. 

Zenyatta moaned softly when Hanzo’s hands pushed his shirt up, toying with his nipples, the rough pads of his thumbs sending a pleasant sensation to his core. He pushed his hips up, Hanzo breaking the kiss to huff quietly against Zenyatta’s collar, eyes fluttering shut. An odd reaction for something so simple. Zenyatta cupped Hanzo’s cheeks, eyes flicking to his lips as he raised his thigh, testing. Pressing between Hanzo’s legs, grinding up against his erection. Hanzo sucked his lip between his teeth, brows furrowing, hands curling into fists.

“How...Long has it been?” Zenyatta asked, licking his lips as he watched Hanzo shake his head, eyes still squeezed shut.

“Months,” he bit out, Zenyatta raising a brow.

“Really? Even without touching yourself?”

A nod, shaky and quick. Zenyatta hummed, smile growing as he slid his hand down to squeeze Hanzo lightly. The bitten off moan he got in return was gorgeous.

“Hm. Your restraint is impressive. I suppose I will have to break it, though, won’t I?”

“Zen...” Hanzo whimpered, Zenyatta’s lids going hooded. He very much enjoyed this.

“Nothing wrong with allowing yourself some human pleasures, Hanzo. You are allowed to feel this, too,” Zenyatta whispered, hand weaving past Hanzo’s waistband and gripping his cock. He swirled his thumb over the head, already leaking and throbbing under his fingers. So worked up already, so eager. Zenyatta wanted to give him absolutely everything.

“You are beautiful, my darling. So, so beautiful,” the monk murmured, pulling his hand in slow, measured movements, working his way up to a faster pace. Just not before some teasing. 

Hanzo’s breath left him in quick little huffs, arms already shaking, barely holding himself up. A mess before they had even really started. Zenyatta was more than okay with that, starting to jerk his hand in quick pulls, the other sliding behind Hanzo’s head and pulling him into another kiss. Hanzo’s brow scrunched even more, his mouth dropping open as he cried out softly, body tensing. Zenyatta smiled, working him through it, spend catching on his hand.

“Lovely. So gorgeous, Hanzo, you are so beautiful,” he murmured, Hanzo whining and letting his weight rest on top of the monk. Zen pulled his hand from Hanzo’s pants with a soft giggle, pressing kisses over his sweaty brow. Felt his chest rise and fall against his own, head buried against the monk’s shoulder. Zenyatta toyed with his hair for a few minutes, eyes closing as he gently rolled his hips again. He heard a soft sound from Hanzo, arms tightening around him.

“I do hope you are not completely spent already. I am hardly through with you for the evening,” Zenyatta hummed, waiting just a moment before blinking. “That is, if you are okay with that. Are you feeling like you can, because—"

Hanzo sat up on his elbows, a sleepy but coy smirk on his lips.

“I have not even begun with you, love. You simply...Caught me off guard, is all. Just. Give me another few minutes.”

Zenyatta laughed, hugging Hanzo’s head back to his chest, not minding the wait one bit, enjoying the snuggling. Hanzo sat up slowly, pushing his hair back from his face, eyes never leaving Zenyatta.

“Perhaps we should move to the futon, hm?” he murmured, fingers trailing up Zen’s chest, thumb tugging at his bottom lip. The monk smiled and stretched into the touch, nodding. 

They went to the futon, clothes falling to the floor as they did, Zenyatta straddling Hanzo’s thighs when he laid back, lips already back on his. Hanzo’s hands slid up and down Zen’s body gently, sending tingles down his spine, tickling slightly. Zenyatta pushed himself against Hanzo, rolling his hips as he kissed him, hands clutching at his face and dancing over his collar. 

Drawing down over his chest and between their bodies, curling around his cock again. He was hard, Zenyatta smiling to himself before he bit his lip. Angling his hips, taking a little breath before lining Hanzo up and sinking down. Zenyatta’s brow furrowed, the stretch painful, but slowly fading as Hanzo sat up and held him to his chest, murmuring softly against his temple.

“Don’t hurt yourself. Tell me when you’re ready, love.”

Zenyatta nodded, breath slowing as he hugged Hanzo back for a few moments.

“Okay...Okay, I think I am ready.”

“Alright. Tell me if you need to stop at any time.”

“I will.”

The monk moaned softly as Hanzo pushed his hips up gently, slowly fucking up into him, laying kisses over his shoulders. His breath picked up, brows drawing closer as Hanzo’s lips trailed lower, tongue laving over his nipple. Sucking and biting lightly, Zenyatta gasping as the sensations went straight to his core, clit throbbing. Hanzo picked up his pace just a bit, holding Zenyatta impossibly close as the monk’s hands curled and left marks on his back. Gentle, always so, so gentle, his breath hot as it puffed out against Zen’s collar. Everything controlled, yet on the verge of breaking, pleasure a warm haze. 

Zenyatta bit his lip and reached between them, rubbing his clit when the sensations became near overwhelming. Not enough, too much. His orgasm hit him like a wave, body tensing completely, a cry leaving him as he gasped and saw stars. Hearing Hanzo curse low and breathy, the warmth of his spend filling him. Praises whispered into the sliver of space between them, Hanzo leaning back after a prolonged moment and taking Zenyatta with him. The monk sighed as he rested his head on Hanzo’s chest, his hands warm and rough as they slid up and down his back mindlessly. Calming.

“I love you, Hanzo,” Zenyatta murmured, eyes closed, still in the blissful afterglow.

“I love you too,” Hanzo whispered back, lips pressing against Zen’s temple. He smiled and hummed, exhaustion pulling at his body and mind. Zenyatta could not recall a time he had been more content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I love writing things like this and Hanyatta makes my soul warm. :) This story was mostly my interpretations of these characters in this particular AU and me just having fun with them! They're pretty ooc but hey, I had fun, and I hope you did too!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


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